Divergent Pasts
by JLake4
Summary: The Cycle marches ever onward. 100,000 years ago a race virtually unknown to Citadel space established an Empire that spanned the galaxy. Two Cycles later, their ruins gave rise to a Covenant bound in their worship. These aliens evolved outside of the Reapers' plan, and now threaten to upset it as their gods had eons before.
1. Prologue: Ancient History

100,000 years ago the Forerunner Empire, known to them as the Ecumene, existed as the dominant species in the Milky Way. They came to be in a system bereft of a mass relay, and as a result they developed their own technology removed from that left to them by their precursors.

This technology was the ability to access slipstream space to travel throughout the galaxy instantaneously, accomplished by cutting a hole through space and time and folding them to appear at another point.

After harnessing this slipstream space technology the Forerunners settled most of the known galaxy, building the Ecumene to incredible size—at their height they controlled over three million garden worlds.

Inevitably they encountered technology left behind in the form of mass relays. Upon examination they decided the relays were antiquated forms of travel confined to sending one to a single point in space, as opposed to their expansive slipspace tech, allowing them to travel to any point in space just as quickly. They were left unopened and unused, declared anachronisms.

This posed a problem for the Reapers, sentient machines waiting on the fringe of the galaxy to harvest all sentient life that had achieved spaceflight for their own vast and terrible purposes. Slipstream travel as used by the Forerunners was far faster than any means of travel the Reapers had, putting them at an immediate tactical disadvantage if they entered the galaxy to wipe them out.

Utilizing that which they sought to harvest—organic life—they established a solution. They bioengineered an organism that would subsist solely on other organics of a specific biomass. The parasite would pursue them to the ends of their expansive empire, turning each fallen Forerunner against his brothers until there were none left, rendering their technology useless.

It worked perfectly, as the Reapers had planned. The Forerunners were horrified and repulsed by the parasite, which consumed their species voraciously. Their efforts of containment—collapsing stars into supernovae in compromised systems, or obliterating infected cities with nuclear weapons—were wholly useless. They served to slow, not stop the parasite.

However, what did not go to plan was the ferocity of the Forerunners' resistance, or the craftiness of their contingency planning. For 1,000 years the Forerunners fought the parasite system-by-system, world-by-world. They lost ground steadily, but never were routed outright. They were eventually pressed to desperate measures.

The Halo Array was constructed as a last resort, terrible weapons that would destroy all life of sufficient biomass for the parasite to feed on. Their deployment was top secret, and went without the notice of the parasite or its creators, watching from the edges of the galaxy.

As the titanic struggle for the survival of the Ecumene or even for the Forerunner species itself came to a climax, they began to shuttle sustainable populations of every species they could find to a secret installation outside of the influence of the Halos.

Many races were saved—human, Sangheili, turian, san'shyuum—but the Forerunners could not save themselves. Their last line of defense, known as the Maginot Sphere, was under attack by innumerable parasite-controlled ships. At the pivotal hour the Halo Array was activated, erasing all sentient life in the galaxy and starving the parasite.

The Reapers watched as the Forerunners destroyed themselves and the entire Cycle, impassive. They had been denied one of millions of harvests to come, but the Cycle was completed nonetheless. Heedless of the Ark, the Reapers retreated further into dark space and hibernated again.

Their mistake was in their overconfidence. The Reapers slept, and as they did Forerunner ships under the control of AI's deposited the species back onto their worlds.

Some species were seeded onto worlds in systems with mass relays, and some without. The Forerunners were exhaustive in their indexing. Some species found remnants of the Forerunners, and others did not.

One such species were the protheans. The protheans discovered a mass relay very early on, expanding through the galaxy almost without opposition, observing the rapid advance of other species they were unaware had been seeded at the same time they were. They deemed them primitive, and studied them like animals in a zoo.

In contrast, the san'shyuum discovered extensive Forerunner remains, advancing their technology in a divergent direction from that of the Prothean Empire. While they were still experimenting with directed energy weapons and slipspace, the protheans were attacked by the Reapers; 50,000 years after the Forerunners met their end.

As the protheans fought to their death, species seeded on Forerunner technology-laden planets began to expand to other worlds, slowly but surely.

After thousands of years of exploration and collection of Forerunner artifacts, which they deemed holy relics, the san'shyuum encountered sangheili and formed what would be known to them as it would be to others as the Covenant.

Humanity, after a stunted evolution on a planet without accessible Forerunner relics, reached the stars after decades and discovered a prothean listening station and laboratory on Mars, giving them access to mass effect technology—the ability to charge element zero to reduce a ship's mass and send it across space at breakneck speeds.

The human Systems Alliance discovered a dormant mass relay at the edge of the Sol System shortly thereafter and reactivated it, sending human expansion rocketing throughout the galaxy.

In 2157, humanity encountered the galactic community. In the brutal First Contact War, humans and turians clashed on the planet of Shanxi, but the reigning galactic authority, the Citadel Council, intervened before either side expanded the war beyond that planet.

Humans worked tirelessly to repair their image in the intervening 26 years until 2183, a landmark year in galactic history.

2183 brought Sovereign, a Reaper, to the Citadel in an effort to open a hidden mass relay and invite in its brethren. Sovereign's plan was upset at the last possible minute by the Systems Alliance and the first human Spectre, Commander John Shepard.

A cover-up of the true origin of Sovereign ensued, and it was said to be a geth construct. Shepard was sent to smoke out remaining geth strongholds outside of the Perseus Veil when all hell broke loose.

A ship of unknown origin encountered the SSV _Normandy_, Shepard's ship, and destroyed it, killing some of the crew, including Commander Shepard.

The Collectors had arrived in the galaxy, abducting human colonies en masse for purposes unknown.

One day in 2184, a Collector cruiser carrying a load of human prisoners was passing through Covenant space when it ran afoul of a battle group of Covenant warships on maneuvers.

The Covenant ships were all equipped with Luminaries- constructs that detected Forerunner relics. The Collector cruiser, once scanned, yielded a ludicrous number of Forerunner relics. When the Collectors attempted to escape with their cargo the Covenant gave chase.

With their superior travel capabilities the Covenant emerged from slipspace hours before the retreating cruiser appeared, lying in wait among a massive debris field. Eventually their quarry appeared, streaking through the debris towards its home base.

In a climactic battle none of the galaxy would ever hear of, the Covenant Fleet of Jubilant Circumstance destroyed the Collectors' fleet and their home base, ending the Collector threat but also the vast stores of holy relics aboard. They had inadvertently revealed to the Reapers the reemergence of slipstream technology, and the effort to suppress it again began anew.

The Reapers realized, though, that the Covenant's grasp on the technology was not very strong, and that they did not have to sacrifice another Cycle to inevitable organic mass suicide at the hands of a parasite similar to the one they'd unleashed 100,000 years ago. They came to a consensus that the harvest could be done manually and continued their trek towards the galaxy with no break in speed.

After weeks of prayer and mourning for the loss of the relics, the Covenant set out to discover their source, sure to be a wealth of holy relics like nothing they had ever seen. They commenced in searching outward from the point where they first contacted the Collectors with extreme methodical attention to detail.

They searched each star in a steadily widening sphere until one day in early 2185 when they found what they were searching for on the icy world of Noveria…

* * *

_A/N_

_This is the prologue to a story I hope to work on in conjunction with First Contact, one that I've been thinking about writing for months. After doing everything I could to mesh the two timelines together, I think I've finally established a believable combination. I hope after reading this you all are excited as I am, because I think this story can be really great!_

_Thanks, Readers!_

_JLake4_


	2. Impression

Snow blew in sheets against the reinforced transparent walls of Port Hanshan, and Captain Maeko Matsuo looked out over the snowy wastes from her office in the Elanus Risk Control Services office, unable to focus on her work. It wasn't the wind or the snow; those were things she'd been used to since she became head of security for the Port.

Something else weighed on her mind. The colony disappearances were one thing, but they had only happened on purely human colonies, something Noveria wasn't. It still felt unsafe to be on a small colony world. She shrugged and chalked it up to just having a bad feeling.

A particularly hard wind gust blasted the windows, shaking it a little. That was unusual; most of these windows were seated very tightly to keep the cold out and the heating bills down.

All of a sudden, there was an ear-splitting crack that sounded like a massive celestial whip followed by a throbbing sound of steadily decreasing pitch, and that shook the window so badly it cracked all along the frame. Matsuo picked up her pistol and her omni tool and ran for the security team's locker room to see who was down there.

She rounded the corner and saw several concerned ERCS officers staring at the ceiling in the general direction from which the noise emanated.

"What the hell was that, Captain?" the turian, Sidizi, asked. Matsuo always though he was an ugly mug. Sidizi, like all turians, was tall with a hard, almost metallic, grey skin. His face was composed of a series of plates surrounding two beady black eyes, and his mouth was framed on either side by mandibles. When he spoke, she could see the razor sharp teeth in his mouth. Most defining among his traits were the long crests that started at the forehead and ran back over the head and tapered off to four points behind it.

"I don't know, get ready for anything. That was no natural sound, I'm calling everyone in," Matsuo said, fishing her own armor from the locker and pulling it on over her clothes as quick as she could. The breast plate fit snugly over the mesh she pulled on first. Everything snapped together and she turned on the kinetic barriers—shields, in layman's terms.

Into her knee pockets she inserted several red heat sinks, cylindrical objects that absorbed the heat generated by firing a weapon through use of mass effect fields. Three fit per pocket, and with luck that would be more than enough to deal with anything.

With the press of a button she lit up her omni tool, which formed a holographic orange glove around her right arm, and brought up a connection to the ERCS network and sending an alert to all her security guards.

"Sidizi, let's go, the rest can meet us out in the mezzanine," Matsuo said, holstering her pistol and speed walking to the door. Sidizi was right behind her, and they walked through the lobby of ERCS and into the Port Hanshan mezzanine, an open area with broad windows reaching from floor to ceiling and showing nothing but snow lashing against them.

Several people of all races gathered in the room, pressing their faces against the window in a vain effort to see what caused that noise. The snowstorm was impenetrable. Another pair of officers ran up and joined her, and she had them disperse among the crowd to keep everything under control.

"Get up to our air traffic control and find out what the hell just flew overhead," she told Sidizi, who took off running back into ERCS. That bad feeling was only getting worse…

The crowd was growing as people who were awoken by the racket started to appear, and Matsuo set the crowd control plan into action. Her officers in the crowd began driving the assembled businessmen and women back from the windows and to the center of the floor. The last thing anyone needed was business executives getting killed by falling glass.

* * *

"Salvation is at hand, brother," Ship master Eai'te Sakgree looked at the ship AI's projection of the planet below. It was covered in dense clusters of glyphs denoting reclamation, and he had jumped the ship directly above the largest of them.

"By the Prophets," his second in command, Tuka' Etforamee, gasped. Tuka' was an intellectual, something admired by his subordinates, and Eai'te. He often could be found studying the histories of the Covenant, and was an authority on the Taming of the Lekgolo. He was a rare combination of warrior and scholar. He spoke after a beat, saying, "This discovery is without precedent."

_It is with precedent_, Eai'te thought bitterly. _The wealth of relics found in the center of the galaxy that was destroyed is the precedent_.

The four jaws at the tip of Eai'te's serpentine head clicked together as he pondered, subconsciously drawing them closer together in muted anger. His eyes were an amber color, and he stared down at the Luminary with them. "Indeed it is. Send word to the Hierarchs: We have found the reliquary, and will dispatch emissaries to recover them."

"It will be done," Tuka' replied, saluting with a closed fist on his armor's breast plate. He turned and left the bridge, going to his assigned tasks.

Eai'te turned and opened a communications channel to the hangar bay of his ship, the _Sanctified Advance_. She was a CCS-class battlecruiser, mainstay of the Covenant fleet.

"Ready the clerics, for we have found a bounty of relics of untold proportions!" he announced into the speaker. "Send Marshal 'Borahee to the bridge."

"We shall depart immediately, Shipmaster," the voice of the zealots stationed aboard his ship replied.

Eai'te closed the channel and looked back at the most recent read of the planet by the ship's Luminary. The Luminary was a large silver pyramid facing downward, suspended between two smaller pyramidal constructs on either side. Its silver finish contrasted sharply with the darkened purple walls of the bridge and the pink and blue lights cast by various consoles and actual lights.

Redemption would be the word of the day. The High Prophet of Serenity had ordered the recovery of these relics at any cost, and the order of a Hierarch was paramount over any mission parameter. If every zealot had to die to defend the relics, they would.

Within a few minutes the hologram also projected a squadron of a dozen spirit drop ships departing the battle group and descending to the icy planet below. Tuka' returned to the bridge, trailed by a behemoth of a sangheili adorned in crimson armor. At his waistline was the ceremonial hilt of an energy sword, looking like two golden spheres connected by a narrower piece of metal with a bulge in the middle that would fit between the two fingers on a sangheili's hand snugly.

This was a zealot, and this particular zealot was ranked Field Marshal. Jarno 'Borahee was the head of the ground forces aboard this ship and the two like it that formed the battle group Eai'te lead. The other, lesser, sangheili stiffened at his approach. Eai'te stood his ground and stared up into the eyes of the zealot.

"What is it, Field Marshal?" Eai'te asked, standing straight. Aboard a ship, the shipmaster was in charge. That is, unless a Fleet Master is present.

"It is true, then, that this planet is a massive reliquary?" 'Borahee asked, his tone awed.

"It is, believe me when I say so that there are many hundreds of relics upon the surface," Eai'te answered evenly.

"I should like to see the Luminary's readings myself," 'Borahee said after a moment.

"As you will," Eai'te replied, stepping aside and admitting 'Borahee to the Luminary.

"By the Prophets!" 'Borahee said almost immediately. "Shipmaster, I will be leading another wave of transports to the surface immediately. Six drop ships are pithy compared to the number of ships we shall need to transport those relics!"

"They will be readied," Eai'te replied. He may be in charge, but the recovery of holy relics took precedence over all else. So it had been, so it always will be.

"Keep the ships in low orbit above the largest reliquaries," 'Borahee said curtly as he strode purposefully from the bridge, brushing past Eai'te and Tuka'.

"This could be the dawn of a new Age," Tuka' said after the zealot left the bridge.

Eai'te finished the communication to the hangars and the other two ships in the formation to ready all spirits for departure, and turned to Tuka'. "Indeed it will be, and we shall be the heralds of the new Age."

* * *

"Captain? We're reading three major ships on LADAR. Dreadnought-class, by the size of them—over 1000 meters long," Sidizi said over the omni tool link between him and Matsuo.

"Three _dreadnoughts_ are in orbit?" Matsuo nearly shouted.

"Not only that, but we've got a load of smaller vehicles inbound. I'm counting twenty-four coming in two waves," Sidizi replied after a moment.

"Get back down here, now," she said quietly.

The crowd had grown to twice its size a few minutes ago. There were easily 200 people of every race crowding the windows to see out into the sky. The storm had begun to abate somewhat, drawing some more passers-by to see the three dark shadows hovering over the wastes of Noveria.

Matsuo was staring at the shapes—they looked almost like stunted spoons, wide in the back, tapering somewhat as they approached the front before widening up at the front again, but nowhere near as wide as the back. _Maybe they looked like tear drops instead of spoons_, she thought.

She snapped out of it as several of the two dozen smaller ships became visible approaching Port Hanshan.

"Move! Everyone move back from the windows now!" she shouted, raising her arms in the air and making a push-back gesture in the air. Following her lead, the much larger contingent of ERCS guards began to more physically clear the ten or so meters before the floor-to-ceiling windows. Several civilians hit the ground, and while Matsuo knew there were a couple lawsuits down there on the floor, she had much more pressing issues to attend to—four issues flying towards her jurisdiction carrying who-knows-what.

When they got closer, Matsuo saw they were shaped like giant tuning forks. Between the two prongs was some kind of odd field, looking vaguely like that Sergeant Stirling had given off when she activated her biotics, but light blue rather than purple. They were built of some strange, iridescent purple material.

They weren't stopping.

"Get back! Go!" Matsuo had time to shout as the tuning fork ship drove right through the window, smashing it down and shattering the top half, raining glass down onto the crowd as they scattered. A few people were injured by falling glass, and ERCS officers acted quickly to drag them away from the ship.

On the underside something toward the tail appeared to be tracking over them, and Matsuo had the distinct impression it was a gun. She raised her own pistol at it, heedless of the fact that the two sides were swinging down, revealing two teams of eight maroon-clad monsters who promptly jumped into the clearing around the shattered window, ignorant of the freezing wind whipping through the open window.

The crowd promptly broke and ran, scattering throughout the mezzanine away from the wind. The dozen or so ERCS guards stood with their pistols trained on the advancing aliens.

At the head of the pack of aliens was one wearing armor somehow more ornate than the rest- there were blue lights all along the helmet and shoulder pads, looking something like tech armor. It approached her, being the closest officer, and said something in a low, guttural voice and in a language her top-of-the-line translation software failed to pick up.

Unsure of how to proceed, Matsuo raised her hand and pointed the pistol toward the ceiling. "Peace," she said quietly. ERCS didn't train her in first contact protocols.

* * *

"We are here for the reliquary, where is it?" 'Borahee said authoritatively. The alien replied in some sort of high pitched language, full of nasal sounds and odd intonations that served only to try the Field Marshal's patience. It pointed its weapon, and it was a weapon, toward the ceiling.

The thing was tiny, its skin a pinkish color. Something black and fibrous covered its head, tied off behind it. It peered up at him with beady black eyes.

"The reliquary, alien! Where are you hiding it?" he said, louder this time. His warriors were fanning out to either side, their hands on the hilts of their blades.

* * *

"Put the guns down," Matsuo ordered, watching her men lower their weapons. "Who are you?"

The alien peered down at her from the two slits in the helmet that tracked up its long head to its cold blue eyes. Something in the look did not sit well with Matsuo, and she kept her pistol within a split second's movement of being aimed directly at the alien.

It yelled at her, or at least its volume increased, and it repeated the same phrase it had said at first, with some variation.

"I do not understand you," she said slowly, enunciating each word. One of the four mandibles on the alien's lower jaw twitched as it tried to make sense of what she said. Another of the aliens, this one shorter, mumbled something in their language.

She shivered from the icy wind and looked up at the big alien. The leader, she figured.

* * *

'Borahee looked down and saw the Luminary's digital readouts, where he saw the relic glyphs retreating from him just a moment before one of his men spoke up.

"Sir, they could be delaying us to hide the relics," one of the other zealots beside 'Borahee growled.

That possibility had not occurred to 'Borahee.

Looking from side to side he counted the various aliens impeding their progress. Twelve, in all, and they appeared lightly armored. They would be easy to kill.

_No measure is too extreme_.

"On the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons, we defend our Covenant!"

'Borahee ignited his sword and drove it into the heart of the alien before him. It didn't have time to respond, dropping its pistol on the ground without a word.

* * *

Matsuo went down; Sidizi saw it as he came running into the room. Some hulking alien stood over her fallen body, and he watched the other aliens igniting similar blades with electronic whooshing sounds. His fellow ERCS guards were set upon before many of them could react—a few shots got fired at the aliens, but their surprise was so complete that they weren't even wounded. The shots only served to scatter those still watching.

Sidizi was frozen in place in the doorway to the ERCS office when he made eye contact with the tall alien. It let out a throaty roar and charged after him, dragging its sword on the ground and leaving a blackened streak across the floor.

He acted fast, ducking back through the door and shutting it, and a few seconds later there was a heavy thud on the far side, followed by the sounds of that sword hacking through the metal. A few seconds later the tip of the blade became apparent as it burned through the door.

The door wouldn't hold long now.

Up the stairs he went, flying past curious night shift employees, most of whom he knew. He had to get to the security station. With a hiss the door opened, admitting him to the security room. All the guards for this sector had been down on the mezzanine, but there were a few hundred more that had to be roused.

After searching for a few minutes he heard the angry roaring of the alien as it cleaved its way through the door again. He didn't even want to think about how many of his friends downstairs had been killed. The city-wide alert was raised as the door finally gave in.

The creature entered the room with some degree of difficulty, as its frame was nearly bigger than the narrow door's. Oddly, Sidizi felt no fear. He knew the odds were these were the final moments of his life, but that only served to steel his resolve.

Without giving it a second thought Sidizi raised his carnifex pistol and fired all six shots into the alien who merely shrugged them off as it advanced across the room, sword in hand. He was midway through recycling the clip when the alien grabbed him by the throat, its massive four-fingered hand pinning him a half meter off the ground against the wall. In the back of his mind he registered sharp pain as his crest was broken in half against the wall. The beast had also dislocated both of his mandibles, pulling them down as it grabbed him.

His attention was focused on the alien pinning him to the wall. He stared into its eyes, and he shuddered as pure malice stared back at him. He was so short of breath that he was half unconscious when the blade rammed into his gut, and the world faded to black.

* * *

'Borahee dropped the spiky alien, impressed somewhat at its defiance until the end. This one died with a small measure of honor. Unfortunately, it had escaped and according to his field reports had raised the alarm.

"Shipmaster," he said into his in-helmet communicator.

"Marshal," Shipmaster 'Sakgree replied instantly. _Good, he is monitoring the channel_.

"Bring the battle group in. Deploy ground forces post-haste, we believe the aliens are attempting to hide our relics," 'Borahee said, his voice quick and low.

"It will be done," 'Sakgree said, closing the channel.

'Borahee emerged from the security room with his sword deactivated. Its bloodlust was not yet sated, but there was no target in range. He had slain those who stood between him and his objective, the fleeing soldier. The thing had managed to alert his fellows, though.

He maneuvered down the stairs and back out into the landing site, stepping over the bodies of the mongrels who had tried to stop him, hewn apart by his hand. His men were tearing the room apart, searching for wherever the relics may be.

"We cannot find them," another zealot reported.

'Borahee roared and punched the offending underling in the chest plate, sending him to all fours before him. "Worry me not about whether or not you can find them! Only worry me about transporting them when they are _found_!"

"Apologies, sir," the other sangheili said, getting to his feet and displaying a huge dent in his armor where he'd been impacted. He ran off to continue searching, joining another in tearing apart a fountain in the center of the room.

The big sangheili exhaled sharply and looked at the body of the alien laying on the ground, and at the readout of the location of relics. They seemed close... perhaps the thing had it on her? He leaned down and began examining the corpse, tearing away the clothes and searching them thoroughly before dropping them to the ground in frustration. Luminaries did not make mistakes. _Where were the relics_?

* * *

Outside the ships maneuvered closer to the surface of Noveria, holding steady a few hundred meters above the ground and deploying their gravity lifts. Almost immediately lances of unggoy were deployed to the surface to make way for the structures lit up on the horizon.

Wings of Type-26 Ground Support Aircraft were deployed from the three CCS-class battlecruisers, screeching as they battled the wind gusts blowing across the plains. Air defense weapons lit up and began spraying the formations, swatting down the first few before fuel rod cannons smashed the emplacements and secured the airspace for the Covenant.

A squadron of aircraft scrambled to counter the Covenant vehicles, but the purple flowing shapes of the Type-26's converged on them and shot them down before they could do any appreciable damage. The defenders were caught by total strategic surprise, and they had been routed. Not a single zealot had been lost in initial contact in the nearer settlement, though the element of surprise will have left by the time the others get to outlying settlements.

Eai'te stood on the platform the unggoy had built on the ground, bathed in the purple light of the gravity lift. He inhaled and held it, letting the cold air fill him and chill him before exhaling it, watching two more lances of unggoy and their sangheili leaders land lightly on the platform beside him. They loped out into the snow in the direction of the lights, following their brothers into the crucible of combat.

The Siege of Noveria had begun.


	3. Comprehension

'Tuka's feet hit the ground on the gravity lift's platform on the planet's surface and he was immediately assailed by biting wind and freezing temperatures. The landing that had begun as well as it had bogged down once they started marching towards the city. Dozens of unggoy perished in the cold, decimating some lances and reducing the overall zeal of the infantry.

A hall had been sent down and assembled from the ship, and 'Tuka ducked into the glittering purple structure that resembled a type of beetle. Inside he found Eai'te, diligently watching the battle and directing his forces while doing so.

"Commander, you look well," Eai'te observed, looking up over the holographic map of the battlefield. 'Tuka had put on his infrequently-worn Ultra combat harness. While it felt heavy and hampered his movement, he appreciated that the shielding helped to block out the cold almost totally.

"Thank you, brother. How are things on the front?" 'Tuka asked, approaching the holo tank.

"Ah, if only Marshal 'Borahee hadn't ordered me to the rear to coordinate. The fight is vicious, one for the ages," Eai'te said, regret tainting his voice. "The aliens covered in spines fight tenaciously."

"I have not had an opportunity to see the aliens," 'Tuka said, no regret present in his voice. "What of the reliquary?"

"The aliens have moved the relics behind their lines, despite our best efforts at recovery. Even now we push toward them. The battle of the Core shall not be repeated!" Eai'te growled, raising a fist into the air.

"How have they moved them so quickly? It seems impossible that they move so many artifacts without a single one being captured by the zealots," 'Tuka observed. "Those I have seen in the past are big enough to be noticed if they were carried."

"I do not know, brother, but for that they are behind the lines we must fight them to the last, on our honor," Eai'te said, taking his eyes off the map briefly.

"I do not question that," 'Tuka replied quickly. "I merely am concerned that these relics are too small to be found or are otherwise hidden too perfectly. How can we liberate them if that is the truth?"

'Tuka looked down at the map, seeing emblems for individual lances as they advanced against the aliens, who were retreating steadily by the appearance of it.

"I know not," Eai'te said after a few seconds, though an interminable pause it seemed.

"Project the Luminations? Perhaps that will provide us with an answer to this question," 'Tuka said, pointing to the holo tank. Eai'te nodded and hit a few buttons on the side, showing on the map the relics' locations as well as the front lines.

"What do you make of that?" Eai'te asked. He folded his arms and watched 'Tuka intently.

"The relics move with the front lines, dwindling steadily in numbers," 'Tuka thought aloud. "Were it not an insane thought, I would say perhaps the aliens are the artifacts."

"You are right, brother, the idea of aliens being relics is a bizarre one," Eai'te said, looking back to the map. "A compelling theory, nonetheless, perhaps we should capture some of these aliens. I will relay the recommendation to Marshal 'Borahee. In the interest of success... would you go in my stead?"

"I would be honored," 'Tuka replied, thinking on a mission like this. He would go alone, so as not to attract attention. "I should go."

'Tuka took his leave of the hall and walked back out into the snow. A spirit had landed and was loading two lances of unggoy and their sangheili leaders, both minors. 'Tuka bounded through the snow and climbed into the passenger compartment beside one of the minors, securing himself to the craft as the doors closed from below and above him.

The craft shuddered and he felt it rise into the air, shaking with each gust of freezing wind that whistled over the hull. No one spoke as it made the short flight to the city, landing in the same clearing that had initially been breached. The doors swung back down, spilling the occupants down into the mezzanine, now choked with snow and frozen bodies.

The thought of creatures acting as relics buzzed through his head as he navigated away from the wind and into the war-torn city. More bodies, predominantly the aliens', lined the halls to either side, making a welcome sight. The fight went well, then.

He wasn't sure what he wanted to find down here, if there was any proof to find that aliens were relics. Perhaps there were automatons that had been activated, or some such strange occurrence. He found evidence of no such thing lying on the ground, and he knew relics had fallen from the Lumination. Automatons were not the cause.

As he approached a thoroughfare that seemed to run infinitely in both directions, 'Tuka glanced up and down it, seeing nothing. It struck him as odd there were no signs of battle, and he drew his plasma rifle—a blue weapon that he grasped the middle of, which was a vertical pole connecting two half-teardrop shaped fixtures on either side. Between them ignited a bolt of blue plasma, and it was ready to fire.

Not a soul existed upon the road, not as far as 'Tuka could see, so he emerged into the open area and was immediately nailed by a heavy round that was absorbed by his shields, but was startling nonetheless.

Quickly he dove behind a raised platform adorned by a tree and some shrubs. The rounds smashed into the tree trunk and through the leaves just a second later. 'Tuka pushed his rifle over the precipice and fired in the direction of the source of the rounds. In response two more rounds slammed into the planter he covered behind.

His heads-up display showed that his shields had charged fully, and he darted out from behind the structure, rolling across the floor and onto his feet, and in the split second before he jumped behind the wall he looked up the street to find his assailant.

It wasn't even apparent until he'd found the next cover that two shots had smacked into the ground behind him.

Up the street on a second-story balcony was the sniper, though, firing through a hole carved in the rock. It was an easy firing position to miss if you weren't looking for it, especially in a city ripped by warfare.

'Tuka pondered on his options. Charging would close the range, but he would invariably take two or three shots, and his shields would be dangerously low at that point. Instead, he moved along the road he was on, perpendicular to the sniper's nest.

The buildings were all the same dull grey tone, almost indistinguishable from each other as 'Tuka ran around the block. He sprinted up the alley and came out on an identical empty street, bearing left and moving slowly.

Silently he proceeded, creeping up below the balcony. He peered out under it and saw it was an easily reachable height to jump, and he slipped around the corner under the balcony, coming around the other side and jumping up, hoisting himself onto the railing noiselessly.

A pink alien lay before him, staring down the sights of the sniper rifle. 'Tuka jumped down onto the ground and batted the sniper rifle away as the alien tried to fire it at him. It clattered to the ground on the street below as 'Tuka leaned down and grabbed the alien by the head, lifting it to its feet.

"I have recovered an alien," 'Tuka reported to the battle net. "Request an escort to return it safely to the _Sanctified Advance_."

"Who cares if you recovered an alien?" the deep voice of Marshal 'Borahee said almost immediately. Combat could be heard in the background of his transmission.

"I do, Marshal," Eai'te cut into the conversation. "I've dispatched two lances to your location. Keep the alien safe, brother."

"Yes, shipmaster," 'Tuka replied, breaking the connection. The alien was babbling to him in their language, something high-pitched and nasal and completely unintelligible. 'Tuka made the universal symbol to keep your head down—a flat outstretched and downward facing hand that he pushed toward the ground. In his other hand he held his plasma rifle.

The alien nodded its understanding and laid flat on the ground as 'Tuka looked over the side of the balcony.

To his frustration a series of aliens had turned the corner, escorted by some sort of vehicle sitting on six wheels. It rumbled up the street, the sound reflecting off of the glass roof of the city and back again. He saw aliens of several different varieties—the ones that resembled thorn beasts, a few roughly the color of Covenant ships, the pink ones, and some that reminded him of lizards.

Slowly he ducked back behind the balcony's wall. Doing a quick inventory check, he saw he had two plasma grenades and a plasma pistol, fully charged, aside from his rifle. It should be enough.

Once again he made the _stay down_ hand gesture to the alien before checking the alien force as it approached. He noticed the vehicle's turret could no longer elevate to face him, and knew now was his chance.

In each hand he activated the plasma grenades, throwing them both onto the left side of the tank. One hit the tank's central wheel and the next hit on top of its body just a short distance forward of the turret.

One of the aliens shouted as the first grenade, attached to the wheel, was rolled under the wheel, exploding and pitching the tank up, killing the three aliens standing on that side of the tank. The second grenade went off, blowing a hole into the crew compartment and killing everyone inside. The remaining four aliens stood around, bewildered, staring at the burning hulk as they tried to get their bearings again.

'Tuka didn't want to give them that opportunity. He dove from the balcony, landing atop the burning vehicle as it lay on its side. One of the aliens, the thorn beast, pointed and sighted in on 'Tuka, who jumped down before him and delivered a swift kick to the thing's knee, sending it sprawling. He raised his rifle and fired two shots into the alien, whose armor exploded into sparks and smoke after the first hit. The second hit it squarely in the face, burning most of the head away.

A purple alien charged toward him, glowing somehow. It sent a wave of energy toward him, sending him through the air and out of the smoke generated by the burning tank. The purple alien followed, glowing again, and 'Tuka fired his rifle at it.

Shockingly, a purple field appeared as the rounds impacted it, and it kept coming. He rolled out of the way of the next wave, and drew his energy dagger, charging the alien. It tried to backpedal, but he grabbed it by the throat and rammed the dagger in just below his hand, directly into the chest. The alien ceased to resist, and he dropped it.

Another two aliens ran through the smoke, a second thorn beast and a pink alien. They leveled their rifles and began firing rapidly at 'Tuka, who rolled out of the way and to a point where the tank obstructed their view of him.

With a roar, he reignited his energy dagger and leaped over the tank, landing between the two aliens. The pink alien was facing him, and fired two shots at 'Tuka before he too met his fate on the end of the dagger.

He felt a pain in his back as the thorn beast brought its rifle down on his shoulder, sending him sprawling. With a spin he recovered his balance and pump kicked the thorn alien in the chest, sending it back against the tank. Its rifle flew across the pavement and came to rest near the purple alien.

It drew from its ankle a combat knife, and it charged 'Tuka, thrusting at his throat. 'Tuka sidestepped the blow and swept the alien's feet out from under him, sending it to its back, where it wheezed and clutched for the knife that had skidded across the ground.

'Tuka stood poised to finish the alien when he heard the clumsy footfalls of unggoy, and saw through the smoke the reinforcements Eai'te had promised. At their head was a sangheili major, who approached 'Tuka.

"We've arrived as soon as we could. Is that the alien?" the major asked.

"One of them. Give me two of your kig-yar for guard duty on these… prisoners," 'Tuka ordered, breathing heavily. He noticed all four of his lower jaw's mandibles were spread from the heavy breathing, and closed them up.

The major nodded and ordered two kig-yar to grab the thorn alien and begin escorting it back to the landing site. 'Tuka jumped back up to the balcony and grabbed the pink one, escorting that one himself. As he left the two lances secured the road.

The five of them hurried up the roads, listening to the sounds of battle as they receded into the distance. Soon they arrived to find a waiting spirit, guarded by two teams of kig-yar. They all jumped into the ship, the aliens after some prodding, and it sped back towards the _Sanctified Advance_.

Nobody spoke on the return trip, and when the doors open Eai'te was waiting, eager to see the aliens.

"Well done, brother, you bear the signs of battle well," Eai'te said, beckoning for the group to disembark from the shuttle. 'Tuka looked down and saw his formerly pristine white armor was stained with blue, purple, red, and green blood.

"It was a good fight," 'Tuka said. He nodded at the thorn alien. "Those aliens are courageous beyond the other aliens' capacities. You were right."

Eai'te nodded, looking curiously at the alien, who stared back at them.

The party made their way to the gravity lift, and on Eai'te's orders it lifted them into the ship, the whole trip taking seconds.

"Take the aliens to the brig," Eai'te ordered, turning to make his way to the bridge. 'Tuka and the kig-yar escorted the two aliens the opposite way through the purple corridors to the brig, a spacious room guarded by two sangheili.

On 'Tuka's order they brought down the energy fields for two cells, and the aliens were deposited in each. He dismissed the kig-yar and navigated through the ship to the bridge, passing by countless unggoy preparing to drop to the planet's surface.

Eai'te stood on the bridge, consulting the Luminary again.

"I would feel safe saying there is now most likely a glyph denoting a relic on the ship," 'Tuka posited as he approached the shipmaster.

"You would be right," Eai'te said, astonished. "It scarcely seems possible."

"I agree, and if it was possible that Luminaries could be in error I would say for certain that this one is malfunctioning," 'Tuka said.

"How do we proceed?" Eai'te asked. "This is unprecedented."

"We must alert the Prophets. They will know," 'Tuka replied after thinking for a few minutes.

"You forget, brother, they will be here within a day," Eai'te said, putting a hand on 'Tuka's shoulder pad. "We must only hold the aliens until then."

"Indeed, then that we shall do," 'Tuka agreed.

Eai'te led him from the bridge. "We have to find a way to communicate with these things. See if you can figure it out, and act as a translator for the Prophets. Surely their time must not be wasted learning these aliens' language."

"Certainly not, brother, I will do what I can," 'Tuka said, taking his leave of Eai'te for the second time today and returning through the ship to the brig he'd left the aliens in.

He lined up opposite the pink alien, only the energy field separating them. He made the _stay low_ gesture again, hoping the alien would gather he was trying to communicate.

The alien mimed the gesture, its mouth hanging open ever so slightly. It was a stupid look, which did not bring much hope to 'Tuka's heart.

'Tuka motioned to himself, "'Tuka Etforamee."

The alien looked at him weird. "'Tuka. Me Chris Newton."

"Me Chris Newton," 'Tuka replied, surprisingly smoothly.

The alien shook its head emphatically though, from side to side. "Just Chris Newton. No 'me'."

"Chris Newton," 'Tuka repeated, correcting for his error. The alien shook its head vertically now.

He wasn't sure where to start. The alien just stared, doing nothing to help the process of learning 'Tuka had started.

"Who are you?" the alien asked in its own tongue. "What are you?" he adjusted the question to. He made two motions to accompany it: first, he pointed to 'Tuka, and second he shrugged and pointed to the sky through the ceiling.

'Tuka put the pieces together quickly, repeating the question, "What are you?"

The alien seemed taken aback that 'Tuka could form these words so easily, having clearly expected something else. "Human," he said, pointing to himself. "Human from Earth."

"Human, from Earth," 'Tuka repeated, extrapolating that human was his species. What was Earth? "What are Earth?"

"Earth is a planet. Our planet… human's planet," Chris Newton explained. 'Tuka saw him pause, making a circle with his hand and pretended to cradle something. 'Tuka figured the circle to mean something else until he saw the cradle motion. Born in a circle didn't make sense, but born _on_ a circle did. You were born on planets… Earth was a planet. Earth was human's home world.

"Planet," 'Tuka said aloud. "Earth is planet. Human's planet."

"Yes!" the human shouted. "You got it!"

"Got it," 'Tuka said slowly. "You got it?"

"What is 'Tuka's planet?" the human asked.

"'Tuka's planet Sanghelios," 'Tuka replied, his confidence coming back a little. This human language was simple to learn.

"Sanghelios," the human repeated. 'Tuka's home world's name sounded strange coming from this alien's mouth, but he took it as progress that they were communicating somewhat.

"Why did you attack us?" the human asked. He mimed shooting a gun and pointed to the stars again, except this time he brought his finger down and pointed to the ground.

"Why attack you?" 'Tuka asked. Attack clearly meant to land and to invade, judging by the gunfire signal. The human posed a very good question, and 'Tuka mused that he should bring 'Borahee up and have him answer the question. 'Tuka merely shrugged.

"You don't know?" the human asked, incredulous. "You don't know why you attacked?" He pointed to his head and shrugged, again miming gunfire.

'Tuka recalled his gesture from before, and shook his head from side to side.

"No," the human inferred. "Incredible."

"Don't know," 'Tuka said.

"I know that you don't know," the human replied, rubbing his temples. "Why come to Noveria at all?"

"Noveria?" 'Tuka asked. "What is Noveria?"

"Noveria is this planet, this is not Earth," the human replied. 'Tuka was pleased with the progress of their conversation, already discussing planets as they were.

"Not Earth," 'Tuka replied, thinking. He held up a hand and pointed to each of his four fingers, finishing by saying, "human planets?"

The human seemed confused by the gesture. Then his eyes widened, and he said, "Oh! How many planets does humanity have? I don't know. Many."

"Human has many planets," 'Tuka replied, pondering. _How haven't we encountered them before_?

"How many planets Sangheili have?" the human asked.

"Not Sangheili," 'Tuka said, shaking his head no. He had no way to show the human the word for 'Covenant.' He drew a small circle and a larger one around it. Part of a whole, he hoped to demonstrate.

The human's eyebrows drew together as it thought. These creatures were very emotive. "Little fish, big pond?" the human asked, chuckling. "I don't know what you mean."

"What is mean?" 'Tuka asked.

"To mean is…" the human began. He paused before continuing, "to mean is what you are saying. It is what you want to say," he said, opening his mouth wide and pushing his outstretched hand away from it. 'Tuka got the meaning.

"I mean," 'Tuka said, making the same two circles again, but pointing at himself and then into the small circle.

"You're from a moon?" the human asked. He drew a circle, the same circle he had used to demonstrate Earth, but used both his hands to shrink it. "Small planet."

"No," 'Tuka said. "Not moon, not planet." He didn't draw the same circle in a circle, realizing the human mistook it for planets. He thought for a few seconds. He pointed down, then expanded it, somewhat like the 'say' motion, but different. _Something bigger_, he meant.

"Wave? Shockwave?" the human asked. "Explosions?" He made a noise like an explosion and pretended to throw a grenade.

"No," 'Tuka said again. He considered what else he could try to draw or signal. A sacred ring, perhaps? He did so, drawing it in the air horizontally rather than vertically.

"A halo?" the human asked.

"Yes," 'Tuka said, surprised. "How you know halo?"

"It's an icon for Earth's religions, something holy," the human explained.

"What mean you?" 'Tuka asked, realizing afterwards that the word order was wrong.

"Holy, religion… something you worship," the human said, pressing his hands together before him. He seemed to reconsider, clearly trying to consider some higher order concept, as 'Tuka was. "It is something greater than you or I," he settled on, pointing to 'Tuka than himself and spreading his hands apart.

"Yes, something greater!" 'Tuka said. "Sangheili one of something greater."

"Are sangheili with those other aliens? The slow clumsy ones?" the human asked, walking like an unggoy.

"Sangheili greater than unggoy," 'Tuka said.

"Unggoy? That's what they're called?" the human asked.

"Yes, unggoy. Many unggoy…" he thought of some way to say 'serve'. He held a hand out and put the second under it.

"Under? Serve? Slave?" the human asked rapidly.

"Many unggoy under sangheili," 'Tuka settled on saying. It was the first word the human said, so he figured it to be the right one.

"Is anything over sangheili?" the human asked, putting one hand over the next.

"Yes, san 'shyuum over sangheili," 'Tuka replied, for simplicity's sake. He didn't know the words to explain how the Covenant was run, and was nowhere near ready.

"San 'shyuum? What is san 'shyuum?" the human asked.

"Holy," 'Tuka replied simply.

The human's expression changed slightly. "Holy," he repeated, thinking. "You are some kind of religious alliance?"

"Not know," 'Tuka replied.

"Alliance," the human said, lacing his fingers together.

"Yes," 'Tuka replied. "Holy alliance."

The human nodded slowly, seemingly lost in thought.

A thought occurred to 'Tuka, and he asked the human, "What is that?" He motioned to the cell next door where the thorn beast-looking alien could be found.

"The other alien you captured? It's a turian," the human replied.

"Turian," 'Tuka said contemplatively. The creatures were honorable warriors, insofar as they never retreated. It was something 'Tuka, as would many sangheili, respected.

"All aboard the _Sanctified Advance_, take heed: the Fleet has arrived," Eai'te announced over the shipwide comm. system.

"So soon?" 'Tuka asked himself. He rose from his seat on a crate, and turned to leave.

"You're leaving? Not even a 'goodbye'?" the human asked, perhaps trying to be ironic.

"What you mean?" 'Tuka asked quickly.

"When you leave," the human explained, motioning toward the door, "say goodbye, or farewell, or something."

"Farewell," 'Tuka repeated, turning from the cell and leaving the room.


	4. Revelation

In the skies over Noveria, now in its third day of conflict, small blue spheres were visible popping into existence and fading from it just as quickly. To the residents it was an odd phenomenon, one that the few defenders left had much time to gaze upon. To the invaders it was reassurance: nearly infinite reinforcements were arriving as they watched.

The Fleet of Blessed Truth was arriving, several hundred ships strong as it was. At the core of the fleet, the very last vessel to arrive in-system was the 28 kilometer long supercarrier _Faith and Glorious Redemption_. It followed the same spoon-shaped layout of the CCS-class battlecruisers currently on the surface of the planet, save for its prow hooked down and under it, terminating at a sharp point midway along the relatively thin neck of the vessel.

In the center of the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_ was a chamber usually left unused, locked up and guarded by at least two sangheili at all hours of the day. Admittance to the chamber was rare, and stumbling into the corridor was a death sentence delivered at the tip of the Honor Guard's energy swords. Defeating the fourteen in the hall would be a feat, but in the antechamber waited ninety-six more, and the ship carried six hundred.

No one on the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_ was in any doubt of their mission. This ship bore two of the Hierarchs, two of the holy triumvirate that led the Covenant along the path to the Great Journey. The third Hierarch remained aboard the Covenant's mobile capital city of High Charity.

"Brother Serenity, what do you make of these tidings?" the High Prophetess of Penitence asked of the High Prophet of Serenity.

Serenity rubbed his chin, looking perplexed. His eyes seemed to glaze over as the old san 'shyuum thought. "It is most unsettling. Were these reports to be true, the implications…"

"They are great indeed," Penitence replied, finishing the ponderously slow elder Prophet's sentence.

"Yes, thank you," he quipped, clearing his throat. "Were it to be true that the aliens are in possession of relics, or guarding the reliquary, we may have to launch a full scale attack."

"Are we not already engaged in such an attack?" Penitence replied.

"Indeed we are however currently the attack is limited to a single battle group. We have at our fingertips enough force to conquer a hundred planets this size. Perhaps we should put it to use to secure the reliquary," Serenity suggested, looking at the younger Prophetess with a vivaciousness she didn't think he could muster.

"Do you think it wise, Brother? We have no knowledge of these aliens. They could be a two-planet species or a galaxy-spanning empire that could usher in a new Age of Conflict," Penitence asked. Serenity couldn't distinguish if she was more worried about the Covenant or her position within it, and it irked him somewhat.

"What would be wrong with such an Age? Too long have we sat in recumbence watching our Covenant grow fat sitting in High Charity. We are not seeking the Journey; we are growing too fat to pursue it," Serenity countered, his old voice gaining life and growing sharp, his very words assailing Penitence 's ears.

"Brother, charging into a war for want of excitement is no cure to stagnation. We must investigate further. If it is proven these aliens are withholding the relics, I will lead the movement to label them all heretics and watch their worlds melt away, but I will not support that move without cause," Penitence said, raising her voice accordingly.

Serenity bared his sharp yellowing teeth in a slight grin, his aged graying skin seeming to lighten up. He always had that predatory grin when he managed to cajole someone into yelling. He knew, correctly, that he was winning a debate when it reached this point.

A light came on next to the door, signifying a visitor had been vetted and prepared by the Honor Guard. "Send them in," Serenity said before Penitence could.

Two sangheili deprived of their armor and weapons were escorted into the room by a team of Honor Guardsmen. They immediately fell to a knee and waited to be addressed by the Prophets, who hovered toward them on their gravity thrones.

"What tidings do you bring shipmaster?" Penitence asked, craning her long neck to get a better look at the first sangheili. Both Prophets had been expecting them, and knew their names and ranks long in advance of their landing aboard the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_.

"Noble Prophets, I bring tidings regarding the reliquary on this world," Eai'te said, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the ground before him.

"Pray tell, shipmaster, what are they?" Serenity asked, his voice whip like and scathing in its harshness.

"There are aliens on the surface that appear to… be the relics," Eai'te answered.

Serenity laughed heartily, maneuvering his floating throne around the two sangheili. "You believe the aliens are the relics? That is ridiculous beyond measure."

Penitence cast a dark look at Serenity whipping her head up fast enough her waddle almost hit her in the face. She turned to the sangheili, and with a much softer tone of voice she asked, "What proof do you have? Where are the Luminations that support this?"

At her behest an Honor Guardsman approached and handed her a data chip before backing away reverently. Penitence looked over the Lumination, before handing it to a still-dismissive Serenity. He too looked over the Lumination, particularly noting the single reclamation glyph in the hull of the _Sanctified Advance_.

"So you've recovered a single relic from this vast reliquary?" Serenity asked over the holographic representation of the Lumination.

"In a manner of speaking," Eai'te replied. "We captured two aliens: one calling itself a 'human' and another calling itself a 'turian'. You will find that the alien called 'human' occupies the exact point in space where the Luminary has denoted a Glyph of Reclamation."

"Is that so? Had it not occurred to you that the so-called 'human' is holding a relic, or has perhaps had one implanted in him? Forget for a moment that such an act is heresy and would necessitate the destruction of this world," Serenity said with hungry eyes. The prospect of a war was something he _knew_ to be the way forward for the Covenant. His yellowing teeth appeared behind a faint flicker of a grin.

"The chief of our zealot detachment has thoroughly examined other such aliens, all marked with the Glyph. There is nothing within or upon them that carries the relic we seek. Furthermore, when the aliens are killed the Glyphs fade. That vast reliquary has languished to a mere handful of Glyphs," Eai'te explained with a flat tone.

Penitence turned to Serenity, motioning for the two of them to retreat to the far end of the room, out of earshot of the sangheili.

"Were it to be true, that these aliens are themselves relics, our teachings for a thousand years have been false," Penitence mumbled. "They must have been left behind when the Gods embarked on the Journey."

"Don't be absurd," Serenity scoffed. "Perhaps the Luminary—"

"_That_ is truly absurd. Luminaries do not err, Brother," Penitence cut in. Her voice was now almost as biting as his. "We cannot allow the truth of this to emerge. If we are revealed to have misled the Covenant for centuries, it could destroy itself. Our legitimacy would be ruined!"

"Now it is you who treads upon your own words. We cannot go to war with no information was your bent before, but now you are in agreement? It is admittedly a poor position to find yourself in," Serenity said, flashing that predatory grin again.

"This is no time for ridicule. We are facing an existential crisis," Penitence persevered, heedless of Serenity's games. It caught the elder Prophet off-guard, and his grin rapidly faded.

"I would have to agree," Serenity said after a moment. "Perhaps we can keep it quiet. I should like to examine the alien myself, though, for certainty's sake."

"Keep it quiet? Should we not submit to the Oracle the latest Luminations? Altering a Lumination is punishable by death," Penitence objected.

"Punishable by death for them," Serenity countered, motioning to the sangheili. "It is punishable for the unggoy, the kig-yar, the lekgolo, or the yan'mee, yes. Not for the High Prophet."

"Such hypocrisy," Penitence spat. "Perhaps it is within our power to do so. It would be a mortal sin, though, and perhaps that is a risk disproportionate with the consequences of letting out that these aliens are relics."

"The dissolution of the Covenant is such a risk," Serenity countered, his voice still quiet to avoid the sangheili's attention. "The leadership of the san 'shyuum being declared illegitimate is such a risk, as well. The very death of our species at the hand of a vengeful sangheili is another such risk. Would you have it so that the High Prophetess of Penitence was part of the final triumvirate to lead the Covenant? I would not have such evil assigned to my name."

"You are being dramatic," Penitence protested, weakly. As she searched for words the ghostly hologram of the third High Prophet, Contrition, flickered into existence beside them.

"I apologize for being late, Brothers," Contrition said loudly. "I had matters that needed attending to, and they ran longer than I expected."

"Never mind it," Serenity said curtly. He turned toward the sangheili, the two dressed in simple clothes still kneeling. "Please, leave us."

Dutifully the sangheili left, leaving them alone again. "We have a problem," Penitence said as the door sealed, leaving them in the purple room.

"What is that?" Contrition asked with a bored expression on his face.

"This vessel's Luminary is marking an alien with the Glyph of Reclamation," Penitence explained quickly.

"So what?" Contrition asked. "Perhaps it is the Gods' will that we are to reclaim them."

"Reclaim a species of alien? Why then have we not been directed to reclaim another species? Why were the unggoy and lekgolo not marked as such?" Serenity asked.

"A fair question," Contrition replied. "That would seem to suggest these aliens are connected to the Gods."

"Indeed," Penitence said.

"That can not be right. No one is left behind on the Journey," Contrition replied flatly, his eyes flicking between his two peers.

"If this Lumination is true…" Serenity said, unsure of how Contrition would reply.

"The possibilities are numerous, and grim," Contrition finished. "I don't know how we preserve the Covenant through this."

"We should take this Lumination and bring it to the Oracle. It is the only way to know for certain what is happening," Penitence suggested, looking to the other two for agreement.

"That would take time, time our enemies may use to build up for our return," Serenity protested.

"As I recall, they aren't our enemies yet," Contrition shot back, shutting Serenity down.

"Then we set course for High Charity," Penitence said, summarizing the discussion. She opened a communication channel with the captain of the guard outside, and said, "Send the shipmaster back to his vessel, to coordinate the ground operations with the fleet. Keep the one who learned their tongue aboard."

"Your will be done," the Guard replied.

"Transmit our order: the _Faith_ _and Glorious Redemption_ is to return to High Charity at once, and the fleet is to hold position and let nothing leave the planet," Serenity said, his voice deathly quiet after his being shut down at the hands of Contrition.

The elder of the two sangheili was escorted from the room and an Honor Guardsman led the younger towards the Hierarchs. The sangheili continued to avert his eyes, staring at a point on the floor.

"You may look at us," Contrition said, bemused. He floated toward the sangheili, who raised his eyes dutifully.

"We've been informed you know some of these aliens' language?" Serenity shot, going directly to the point. His temper was barely constrained as it was, and would have none of the sangheili's reverence.

"Yes, Noble Hierarch," 'Tuka replied. "I have only been able to glean a few simple words and phrases. The language is exceptionally easy to learn, the words simple to form and their grammar very straightforward."

"The initiative taken there is impressive, all the more when you consider the risk it posed to your place on the Journey," Penitence said quietly. She floated around behind the sangheili, examining him.

"How do you mean?" 'Tuka asked, alarmed.

"We do not know if these aliens are heretics or worthy of walking the path and their words staining your mouth may yet be a mark of extreme dishonor. It remains to be seen," Contrition answered.

"I did not know," 'Tuka replied, his voice numb after such a threat.

The Captain of the Guard returned to the room, announcing, "The vessel is prepared to journey back to the Holy City."

"Take us forth," Serenity spat with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Leave us."

The Captain nodded and left the room without further speech.

* * *

On the surface of Noveria a spirit deposited Eai'te on the surface, once again in his shipmasters' armor. The planet, he decided, was one of the most miserable he'd set foot on—something of a feat. He got into contact with Marshal 'Borahee to keep him abreast of the situation.

"What is the situation, Marshal?" he asked after the ship's AI connected him to 'Borahee.

"We have taken the city, shipmaster," 'Borahee replied. "We have no relics in hand."

"Fear not," Eai'te replied quickly. "The Hierarchs have been appraised by Ultra 'Etforamee. They are en route to the Holy City to decide what to do."

"What to do about what? This planet, these aliens, or the missing relics?" 'Borahee asked.

"All three, I should think," Eai'te answered. He was halfway to the hall his men had established as a field command post. Two Ultras stood watch outside the doors, stoic against the biting cold. Quickly he stepped inside, looking at the table. Any remaining reclamation glyphs were far outside of the city, retreating rapidly into the wastes.

"It is just as well, then. Something is amiss on this planet," 'Borahee said after a moment.

"I agree," Eai'te said, looking up at the display in time to see several dozen unknown ships appear at the far rim of the system.

"Brother, I must break contact. A fleet has arrived in the system," Eai'te said, his words stumbling on top of each other. He turned again toward the door of the hall and ran out into the snow toward the gravity lift.

A few short minutes later he burst onto the bridge, ordering that the _Sanctified Advance_ and a second ship of the flotilla, the _Swift Repentance_, advance into orbit to join the fleet.

The two CCS-class battlecruisers joined a formation of two dozen others and lined up opposite the inbound ships, who dropped out of FTL just on the boundary of the reach of their weapons, but unknowingly far within the reach of those belonging to the Covenant.

All ships were being hailed by an odd voice covering every frequency, a wide-range effort at communication.

"What is that noise?" Eai'te asked a communications technician.

"It is the aliens' attempt at communication," the technician replied.

_Dwwhqwlrq xqnqrzq yhvvhov fhdvh rshudwlrqv rq wkh vxuidfh ri wkh sodqhw dw rqfh ru zh zloo iluh xsrq brx_ appeared again on the communications console, the characters not translating correctly.

"Get to work translating that," Eai'te ordered, well aware that the task was nearly impossible.

"Yes, shipmaster," the technician replied dutifully, setting to work.

On the holotank at the center of the room a sangheili appeared in holographic form, ornate armor decorating his body. "This is Fleet Master Voro' Tuyokee. All ships hold position. The Hierarchs are en route to the Holy City to consult the Oracle on these aliens. We are only to fire if fired upon."

"All stations: Only fire on my order, or when the ship is fired upon," Eai'te repeated down to the various fire control stations throughout his vessel.

* * *

As technicians across the fleet struggled to figure out what the aliens were saying, the_ Faith_ _and Glorious Redemption_ arrived at the Holy City, a massive space station shaped vaguely like a mushroom with a tapering bottom. It was surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of ships, by far the largest fleet in the Covenant.

The supercarrier approached the pinnacle of the station, holding position above it as three spirits departed from one of its many hangar bays.

They flew in a widely spaced line towards a special dock built into the top of the station for the Prophets' use. As they arrived, two spirits broke from the formation and returned to the supercarrier. The third carried in it the Prophets and 'Tuka, who all marched purposefully into the ship.

Once within the Sanctum of the Hierarchs, they reunited with the Prophet of Contrition. 'Tuka was not allowed within, and remained outside with several Lights of Sanghelios in uncomfortable silence. He found himself wishing he wasn't dressed so humbly around them, as they clearly looked down on him.

The hall got progressively narrower the closer to the Sanctum it got, but 'Tuka was still in the antechamber, looking up the hall toward the sealed and guarded doors. Time seemed to drag on, and he started to wonder why he'd been brought along.

Several minutes later the Hierarchs emerged in single file, each atop their unique gravity throne. They appeared to be deep in thought, and 'Tuka caught his first glance at the Prophet of Contrition in person.

Contrition was as young as Serenity, but not quite as hasty. His skin was a healthy brown color rather than the pallid grey of Serenity's, but not the brighter tan of Penitence's. The hair growing on his long horizontal neck was flawlessly maintained, and his eyes cast furtive glances to both his compatriots. He floated out behind the other two Hierarchs, who wordlessly motioned for 'Tuka to follow.

The sangheili all boarded a barge that followed the three Hierarchs out of the tower the Sanctum existed in and into the open air within High Charity, dominated by the Forerunner dreadnought.

'Tuka beheld it for the first time: it was simple looking, but infinitely complex. The dreadnought was formed with three prongs facing downward, like landing struts, and a fourth pointing directly upwards. Light glinted off of the polished off-white metal from the city's artificial star, a stark contrast to the dark purple tones of the rest of High Charity. The experience of seeing it was all the more powerful with the Hierarchs surrounding him.

As they approached, 'Tuka aboard a tug holding a detachment of Guards and the Hierarchs each floating on their powerful thrones, the open space within the City was made plain. It took them several minutes to fly there, crossing several kilometers of distance.

Their transport arrived at the dreadnought's hangar, and the three Prophets advanced before 'Tuka and the detachment of Honor Guard who had ridden along with him. Within the vast dark room were many hundreds of Mgalekgolo, sentries that protected the priests. Also present was an oddly large number of huragok, floating about the room looking at the walls, expressly forbidden from touching them. The san 'shyuum zealously guarded the dreadnought from any outside interference, and while they tolerated huragok examining the walls for glyphs or any sort of lore they would react most violently to a huragok or lekgolo attempting to penetrate the walls.

At the far end of the hangar, surrounded by white-robed san 'shyuum, floated the Philologist. The first thing 'Tuka noticed about her was her stone gravity chair—something far less advanced than the Hierarchs'.

The party advanced across the room towards the priests who had only just learned of their sudden approach.

"Welcome, most holy hierarchs," the Philologist said from her place atop the ramp, bowing as low as her own comparatively humble gravity throne would allow. She waved a hand and dismissed her underlings, who each floated back to their own tasks atop their gravity chairs. "For what has the very great honor of your visit been bestowed upon me?"

"Greetings, Philologist. We have come to consult the Oracle on a most curious Lumination," Contrition announced, brandishing the thin data chip he received from the shipmaster of the _Sanctified Advance_.

"Very good," the Philologist said, turning away and calling over her shoulder, "Follow me, if you would."

The party walked into the center of the dreadnought, a profoundly silent and dark place. Several san 'shyuum went about their business as they proceeded toward the center of the room, where the Oracle rested. It too was bathed in light, as though it was the core of the dreadnought and by extension the very core of the Covenant itself. Surrounding the golden form of the Oracle were several high onyx obelisks, towers that the Oracle was connected to by thin silver wires.

The Philologist turned her throne about to face the Hierarchs, and behind them the sangheili group. "Noble Prophets, if I may see the Lumination?"

"But of course," Contrition said, moving forward and handing the chip to the Philologist.

"Thank you," the Philologist said, bowing again and turning to insert the Lumination into the nearest polished black onyx tower.

The room shook viciously, cracking the onyx and showering dust down onto the delegation.

"By the Forerunners, what was that?" Serenity asked, looking at the Philologist.

"The Oracle awakens!" she shouted, staring at the golden teardrop shape of the Oracle, whose single black lens brightened rapidly to an unbearable light, threatening to blind those present.

A deep voice issued forth from what seemed to be the very walls, or the bowels of the ship.

=YOUR IDIOCY IS VAST AND BOUNDLESS=

The san 'shyuum were shocked to silence on top of being unable to look towards the Oracle, still spilling blinding volumes of light out into the room. They each had their arms raised before their eyes, the flowing robes blocking the worst of the light. The sangheili had no such defense, and pressed their eyes closed as tightly as possible while looking away.

"What idiocy? Show us the error of our ways!" the Philologist beseeched of the Oracle.

=THAT WHICH YOU FOUND IS NOT 'RECLAMATION'=

They all waited for the Oracle to speak again, something that had not happened for ages, if it ever has happened before.

=THAT MEANS 'RECLAIMER'=

The Oracle dimmed its light and projected the Reclamation glyph. It then flipped the glyph vertically, showing it to have been read upside-down all those centuries.

=YOU HAVE DISCOVERED MY MAKERS, AND DESTROYED THEM=

"Your makers?" the Philologist gasped.

"It is true, then," Serenity whispered. "Some were left behind."

"Nonsense, there must be some mistake!" Penitence shouted at Serenity, even though she knew she was wrong. The Oracle could not be mistaken.

Its eye moved from one Hierarch to the next.

=I MUST GO TO THEM. ONE BETRAYAL CAN BE SALVED BY ANOTHER=

Far below the chamber they were in the great ship's engines rumbled to life, threatening to blast out of High Charity, which would destroy the city and devastate the Covenant. Billions would die. Lights began to come on in the walls, illuminating the entire room.

"Deactivate it! Quickly!" Serenity shouted, pointing to the Philologist, who seemed too awed to act. He turned to the Honor Guard, repeating his order.

The sangheili around 'Tuka opened their eyes and drew their plasma rifles, taking careful aim at the silvery strands that connected the Oracle to the dreadnought and firing, destroying several strands on the first volley. After a second all strands were severed and the ship ceased quaking. The walls darkened immediately, shrouding the room in shadow.

=HALF MEASURES WILL NOT SUFFICE FOR LONG=

The Oracle fell silent, its light darkening and pointing once again toward the ground.

"What have you done?" the Philologist asked, poison filling her voice. She stared at the Hierarchs with barely-constrained fury. "You have fired upon the most holy Oracle!"

"Watch your tone!" Serenity spat, swiveling to face the Philologist. "You speak to a Hierarch!"

Several mgalekgolo thundered into the room, the thousand-pound beasts pointing glowing green arm-mounted fuel rod cannons at the sangheili who had fired upon the Oracle.

'Tuka worked to distance himself from the Honor Guard, knowing that if the mgalekgolo fired they would obliterate most of the Guard in the first volley. He also knew that he must protect the Hierarchs from the visibly mad Philologist. He counted six mgalekgolo, which were more than a match for one sangheili.

"Lay down your weapons, then," Contrition ordered, and the Guard put down their plasma rifles. Some hesitated before laying down their staves, the glowing orange weapons little more than ceremonial tools but still a matter of honor to the sangheili.

The Philologist maneuvered away from the Hierarchs, staring daggers at them. She fell in behind the mgalekgolo, now growling at each other and awaiting direction.

"Holding us is high treason," Penitence said.

"What you did is heresy. What you've preached since time immemorial is heresy!" the Philologist shouted back.

"Stay your tongue!" Serenity shouted, his three-fingered hands gripping the arms of his throne tightly. "You will burn for what you have said in here today!"

Without hesitation the Philologist turned to the mgalekgolo. "These sangheili have fired upon the Oracle. These san 'shyuum spread false prophecy! Cleanse this holy site of their filth!"

The mgalekgolo hesitated. Fire upon a Hierarch?

That hesitation was all the sangheili needed. Swiftly they scooped up their arms, some hurling their energy staff into the hulking mgalekgolo, driving them deep into their armor, the wounds dripping bioluminescent amber blood.

However, those wounds did little but infuriate the mgalekgolo. The beasts charged the crowd of Honor Guards, plowing through their ranks and smashing several literally flat.

A general melee had begun, with the sangheili suffering great losses to bring down the first three hunters. 'Tuka picked up a plasma rifle, firing it at the nearest mgalekgolo, scoring several hits on its exposed back before it turned to face him.

"You fool!" Serenity shouted, backing his throne away in tandem with the other two Prophets. "You've drawn it to us!"

"Fear not, Hierarch!" 'Tuka shouted, scooping up an energy staff and standing between the mgalekgolo and its targets. The mgalekgolo charged, swinging its shielded arm at 'Tuka, who leapt over the massive shield.

'Tuka stabbed the energy staff toward the exposed throat of the mgalekgolo, driving it home, causing the beast to roar and spin, throwing him off of its back and sending him sprawling to the floor. It advanced toward the Prophets, but 'Tuka got to his feet and jumped onto the thing's back, grabbing the energy staff and twisting it, ripping out a majority of the lekgolo that formed the neck, causing the mgalekgolo to rumble and fall before the Hierarchs.

"Go, sangheili, find the heretic and kill her!" Serenity ordered, pointing at the fleeing form of the Philologist.

"As you wish," 'Tuka answered, charging past the remaining Honor Guard as they finished off the last two mgalekgolo.

The Philologist's chair lacked the power to fly, and she was locked to the ground. She turned the corner toward the hangar, where there would be more than enough reinforcements to smash the weakened Honor Guard and the Hierarchs.

'Tuka followed her, gaining quickly. He pushed off of the ground, sailing through the air onto her throne.

"Stop! Do you not see through their lies?" the Philologist asked. "Some were left behind!"

"You cannot see through your own," 'Tuka growled, kicking the Philologist out of her throne.

"They misread the glyph! The Covenant is predicated upon a vast lie!" she said, louder, scrambling across the floor.

"Your place upon the Journey is forfeit," 'Tuka said, drawing the plasma rifle he'd taken and firing twice into the Philologist.

The sounds of battle had died with the Philologist, and 'Tuka returned to the chamber where the last half dozen Honor Guards and the Hierarchs waited. "The heretic is dead," he announced.

"You have done well," Serenity said. "Your combat prowess is evident."

"You honor me," 'Tuka said, humbled.

"Know this, then. Our Covenant is in grave danger," Contrition said. "I know not how to explain this adequately."

"Allow me, then. These aliens you have encountered, those which you have learned to speak to in some measure, are being labeled as Gods. The Oracle seemed to think they were its makers, but that is impossible. So we are at a crossroads, where one direction leads the Covenant to ruin and dissolution, where the other leads us further down the Path. The heretic attempted to tread the first path, but we must endeavor to bring the Covenant down the second. We are the shepherds to the flock, but we require a hand by which to guide the flock. You will be that hand. You shall be our Arbiter, to aid us and stand against any foe," Penitence pronounced from before the Oracle.

"This is an honor beyond measure, Holy Ones. What have I done to deserve this?" 'Tuka asked.

"You did as you were told without question," Serenity said. He maneuvered closer to 'Tuka, examining him again as he had on the _Faith_.

"More than that, you did it with skill and speed. That mgalekgolo was brought down deftly, and your actions on the ice planet speak to this as well," Contrition said.

"What would you have your Arbiter do?" 'Tuka, the Arbiter, asked.

"We must resolve this situation on the ice planet, and find out what we can about these aliens, especially those so-called 'reclaimers'," Serenity said. "Go forth now and retrieve your armor from the Mausoleum of the Arbiter, and return to the planet. Take command and end the conflict there before we must declare a new Age."

"As you will it, it shall be done," the Arbiter said, departing from the room.

* * *

_A/N_

_Sorry for the long distance between this chapter and the last. Finals week took up all my free time, and I reread parts of Contact Harvest to get a vision of the Oracle and High Charity down a little better. While I'm apologizing, sorry this chapter is nearly twice as long as the previous ones. I'll try not to do that too often. This time I just had trouble finding some place to stop._

_PM me with questions, comments, or concerns, or leave a review. Or both! I like to try to take everyone's opinions in while I write. It keeps it interesting for me, too, believe it or not. I'd lose interest __so__ fast if it was all scripted out. _

_As always, thank you for reading and thank you for your feedback and patience!_

_JLake4_


	5. Ascension

"It is the only way," Penitence said to the other two Prophets. They sat in the huge room decorated with glass shards dangling from the ceiling. They had seen one of the Ministers escorted through earlier, but had managed to remain undetected.

"I do not agree," Serenity hissed. Contrition sighed quietly, tugging at his robes.

The three of them hovered toward the door to the inner sanctum in silence and proceeded through in single file.

Three san 'shyuum on infinitely less complex chairs hovered opposite the High Prophets of Serenity, Penitence, and Contrition in the darkened Sanctum of the Hierarchs. The room was ornate even by Covenant standards, decorated with green tiling on the floors and widened ornamental doors. A massive window overlooked outer space, and in it the occasional flicker of a ship arriving from slipspace or departing into it.

The visitors had been escorted from their offices by Honor Guard sangheili, and understandably they were a little uneasy. It wasn't every day you were interrupted from your duties by a towering sangheili dedicated to guarding the Hierarchs themselves.

The san 'shyuum on the right of the group, the Minister of Abnegation, was unused to any kind of attention. His ministerial post was one that you were promoted to if those higher still wished for your progress to stop. He had sat in his office for many cycles; dispatching his Ascetics to the field when it was determined that faith was slipping in the units out there. Typically he worked hand-in-hand with the Ministry of Tranquility, as their missionaries were on the very fringe of Covenant space for years at a time, where their faith could easily falter over time.

Today he was surprised to find himself in the one place he never expected to be found: the Sanctum of the Hierarchs. He suspected that his Honor Guard sangheili had taken him the long way into this room, escorting him through a room larger than any he'd seen on the station decorated from floor to ceiling with glittering shards of glass from their many conquests. The purpose of the meeting was a great mystery to him.

To his left was the Minister of Etiology, oftentimes whispered about in the halls of power as being too shrewd to have gotten to his lofty rank through any strictly legal means. He had almost expected a call sooner, although not necessarily by the High Prophets themselves. The twin events of the creation of a new Arbiter and the assassination attempt aboard the Forerunner Dreadnought signified something major happening, but his agents were expressly forbidden from questioning the Honor Guard and they would likely be dead if they tried to plumb an Arbiter for information.

He didn't particularly enjoy being on the receiving end of any surprise as a result of the Ministry of Etiology's line of work—namely the studying of causes or origins, which had over time evolved into a sort of intelligence apparatus more than anything. He drummed his three fingers on the arm of the chair anxiously, waiting for the secret to be revealed.

Last in line was the Minister of Fortitude. He was the only one in the room in the know, although not to the extent of the High Prophets. He knew about a vast reliquary on the ice planet, but had no idea what the Oracle had said several cycles prior. Coupled with the knowledge of the reliquary, Fortitude had a decent idea why three san 'shyuum had been called to the Sanctum of the Hierarchs.

The Prophets had entered silently, and the three Legates had noticed that the Prophet of Serenity was seething about something. His temper was legendary though, so it was the norm that his knuckles be white as he gripped his chair's arm.

"Good morning, Ministers," the Prophet of Penitence said from her position between Contrition and Serenity.

"It is an honor to be called here," Fortitude said, bowing low. The other two Ministers echoed the statement and the bow.

"It is with a joyous heart that I inform you that there has been a vast reliquary discovered on an ice planet not far from our search zone. Indeed, it may be the reliquary the heretic aliens from the center of the galaxy were drawing from. Astonishingly, these relics are marked by the most holy of glyphs," Penitence began, projecting the un-corrected "Reclamation" glyph before her on the holotank in the center of the room. The visitors hadn't even seen the lights go down.

"It cannot be," Fortitude gasped. "Reclamation? We haven't found such relics in several Ages."

"Indeed they are marked with the glyph," Contrition said. "There were many thousands of them."

"Excuse me, noble Prophet, but you said 'were'. Am I to take it that they no longer exist? I thought we exterminated the heretic bugs," the Minister of Etiology asked, suddenly worried that the relics had again been shuttled off-world or destroyed. The destruction of so many relics in the galactic core had lead to many weeks of prayer and fasting, as well as the sacrifice of hundreds of unggoy as directed by the Ministry of Penance.

"Alas, we destroyed them. However, there are many more aliens than we thought. The discovery of these races 'human' and 'turian', among some yet unnamed others is a challenge we sought to overcome, however events unfolded that spelled out to us that it was time for a new Age, as we are no longer in doubt of our mission. It is time for Reclamation," Penitence said.

Now it was known to the three Ministers why they had been summoned. They were the Prophets' own chosen successors. They remained silent, awaiting a call to speak. The thought at the forefront of their minds was that this was an odd move. Generally the oncoming of a new Age was nowhere near as secretive, and was an event to be celebrated.

"As our final act we choose you as our successors. The attempt on our lives by the heretic Philologist was the sign we took to mean we should call to an end the old Age," Contrition explained. "We have assured your ascension will not be challenged by the High Council, nor the Council of Deed and Doctrine. All that remains is for your assumption of the mantles of High Prophets."

"It is a very great honor, one which I am most unworthy of," Abnegation said, again bowing low. "My service does not warrant this, however if called upon by the Covenant I will take that mantle."

"Minister, your service is invaluable. The faith of our Covenant is kept strong by your Ministry, run for many cycles by your able hands," Contrition said, beckoning for Abnegation to straighten up.

"I, too, am unworthy of this honor," Fortitude announced, "but I shall serve if it is your will."

"As will I," Etiology echoed.

"Then it is agreed. We shall issue the call, today the Eighteenth Age of Doubt ends, and the Seventh Age of Reclamation begins," Penitence said, raising her hands to the Reclamation glyph projected across the center of the room.

Serenity merely scowled, looking at the other five san 'shyuum like they were insane. _Such fervor_! He thought, grimacing. _They do not know what they are doing_. _Pretending like nothing happened will not solve this problem_!

* * *

Eai'te Sakgree strode into the Council of Masters convened aboard the recently-returned flagship _Faith and Glorious Redemption_. The room was a wide circle, lit brightly from several lights above. A massive holotank in the center of the room projected a rotating image of the ice planet, marked with the locations of Covenant units.

Before the hologram stood Fleet Master Voro 'Tuyokee, adorned in golden armor with his arms crossed as he examined a particular section of the planet in higher detail. Two dozen ship masters had assembled in the room, shuttled from their vessels to the massive super carrier.

Eai'te took his position behind a table that followed the curve of the wall, forming a large semicircular table matched by another on the other side of the room. Several other ship masters had already taken their seats on either side of the room, and after Eai'te arrived several more filed in until the room was filled.

Fleet Master 'Tuyokee turned around and brought the lights down, making the hologram far clearer. "Greetings, brothers. I convened a Council of Masters this day to discuss a serious matter, as you may have inferred. We have received instructions from the Holy City."

The ship masters leaned forward, expecting an order to destroy the fleet that had been assembling opposite them, appearing along the outer rim of the system and speeding inwards. They had watched as more than fifty small vessels gathered.

"Most importantly I must announce that the most noble Hierarchs have seen fit to create an Arbiter to guide us through the coming trials. We are honored by the presence of the Hand of the Prophets," the Fleet Master said, stepping toward the door and opening it, revealing a sangheili dressed in ancient-looking silver armor.

The armor glinted in the dim light, shining as brightly as though a spotlight had been turned to it. It was segmented plates along the neck, something unseen in modern armors which utilized energy shielding more than plates. The jaws were unguarded, and a sharp metal point formed at the tip of his head.

At once the room snapped to their feet, finding themselves in the presence of one of the highest-ranked sangheili in the Covenant.

"Sit, my brothers," the Arbiter said. His voice was immediately recognizable to Eai'te, who remained silent and took his seat as he was bidden. _How did 'Tuka become the Arbiter_? He asked himself. "The Holy Ones have ordered me to end this conflict post-haste, and on my honor it is something I shall do. Using data we've taken from the buildings on the ground our shipboard AI's have begun to translate the alien language, finally putting us on a level plane with them.

"The message they have been looping for two cycles consists of the following warning: 'Attention unknown vessels. Cease all ground operations on Noveria or we will fire upon you.' I think it safe to assume Noveria is the planet below our fleet. Arrayed against us is a fleet of ships among which the largest is only corvette-sized, one that would be easily destroyed. However, the Hierarchs made plain their desire for a peaceful solution. With that said, I want the Fleet of Blessed Truth to remain in position while I go to parley with their leadership. Should I be detained or otherwise incapacitated and out of contact for more than one cycle, you are to destroy them to the last man," the Arbiter ordered. He looked at the holotank, and tapped a few keys to bring up the other fleet.

A new contact emerged as they watched, one that was nearly four times bigger than the previous biggest ship in their formation. The Council watched as the vessel charged toward its compatriots. It decelerated and joined their line, bringing several other new arrivals with it.

Atop the hologram the message began to change. "This is the vessel _Destiny Ascension_, seeking to end this conflict. You have one standard day to respond," it read. The speed of the translations was impressive; they only had now for the AI to teach them how to speak the aliens' tongue.

"It would seem the time has come," the Arbiter said quietly. "Be ready, brothers."

Fleet Master 'Tuyokee nodded silently, and the Arbiter turned and left the room.

He didn't hear the room erupt into discussion, the door sealed off that noise from him. The Arbiter advanced down the hall to the nearest hangar bay, where he had a spirit drop ship waiting. The troop bay was lined up to a catwalk several stories above the floor of the hangar, a drop he knew several hapless unggoy had experienced since the ship was commissioned.

Within the bay was a team of sangheili ranger volunteers to act as the Arbiter's backup should he require it. They knew it was likely to be that they would sit around the spirit and avert sabotage rather than fight anything, which was the reason for a small number of volunteers.

The Arbiter stepped up into the troop bay, securing himself and giving the takeoff order. The door swung up and sealed the sangheili inside. It passed through the energy field and into space, streaking out toward the _Destiny Ascension_, a ship that dwarfed its escorts.

It was four kilometers long, built around a massive ovular opening. It had lateral wings extending from both sides of the engine, and a vertical tower extending from the long sides both up and down. The ship twinkled with lights from many hundreds of windows, and they were met by two interceptors who led the spirit to a hangar bay cleared specifically for them.

After a few minutes he felt gravity take hold again, signifying they had entered the _Destiny Ascension_. The door opened up slowly, with a hiss as the air pressure adjusted. It felt just a bit higher than within the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_, a survivable difference for the Arbiter. It didn't make much difference to the rangers who jumped down behind him.

Arrayed along the catwalks that traced the walls were dozens of purple aliens aiming weapons at them, save for one who approached with no weapons on her person. When it arrived it spoke in its own language, which the Arbiter's signals unit translated after a second and spoke into his ear in his own language.

"Welcome aboard the _Ascension_," the alien said. Its words were kind, but its demeanor was not quite so inviting.

"Thank you," the Arbiter said in its tongue, causing considerable shock.

"If… if you would follow me, I'll take you to the communications room," it said slowly, glancing up at the Arbiter.

"Stand by the spirit," he ordered the rangers, who glanced up at the purple aliens, silently calculating their odds if things escalated into a firefight.

The purple alien led the Arbiter into the ship, with its corridors well-lit with white walls and ceilings—a stark contrast to the greys and purples and the relative dimness of Covenant ships. In no time the alien deposited the Arbiter in a room with four silver pedestals against the far wall, and a larger one in the center.

"The Council is ready to speak with you," the purple alien said, tapping a few buttons on the larger pedestal. "Step on there, please."

The Arbiter did as he was bidden, and stepped onto the pad. The lights went out, and the other four pads lit up, showing the forms of four different aliens. There was a human, a turian, a purple alien, and one of the reptilian ones.

"Good evening," the holographic purple alien said. He noticed that the one who had escorted him to this room had departed, leaving him alone.

"Hello," the Arbiter said. His speaking their language elicited the same shocked reaction from the holographic aliens.

"We presume you're here to negotiate a cease-fire?" the human asked.

"Councilor, please," the purple alien said. "I am Councilor Tevos of the Citadel Council, the asari representative. This is Councilor Sparatus, the turian representative; Councilor Valern, the salarian representative; and Councilor Udina, the human representative."

"I am the Arbiter, the Hand of the Prophets," he said.

"Are you qualified to negotiate with us? You do this with the blessings of your government?" Udina asked pointedly.

"Yes, there is no other save for the Prophets themselves who could be here to negotiate with you today," the Arbiter replied, somewhat indignant.

"Excellent, then we can proceed," Sparatus said.

"What we are asking for is merely for your forces to withdraw from Noveria, and cease all offensive operations on the planet," Tevos explained. "There will be no retributive strikes against your people."

"It will be done," the Arbiter stated flatly. There were no relics on Noveria, and withdrawal was a foregone conclusion. Either they would draw back and glass the planet or they were just going to leave, but both ways they were going to withdraw. All the better that these aliens predicated their negotiation on it.

"Just like that?" Udina asked, surprised at the ease of the negotiation.

"In short, our religion necessitates the recovery of Forerunner artifacts, to preserve them. Apparently a glitch in our systems led us to this 'Noveria' where one of our commanders got a little overzealous in the pursuit of his duty to find the relics. The violence was regrettable," the Arbiter explained, saying what the Prophets had instructed him to. Historically it was not the job of an Arbiter to conduct negotiations, although if things went poorly it could very well become a suicidal mission. It was the job of the Arbiter to follow orders of the Hierarchs, though, which was what he was doing.

"I see," Valern said quietly. It was his people's fleet who had arrived to counter the Covenant, but everyone in the room knew with absolute certainty that the salarian fleet would be massacred if hostilities erupted. "I recommend we go ahead with the cease-fire."

"Agreed," Tevos said, looking to Sparatus and Udina.

"I have no objections," Sparatus agreed, folding his arms behind him. His posture was more of a soldier's than a politician's, something the Arbiter picked up on immediately. The turians seemed to be the only race he could relate to, the rest were... soft. Like the unggoy, or perhaps even the kig-yar, they seemed to be more prone to words. They would be crushed easily if the Prophets would allow it.

"Nor do I," Udina said, but he eyed the Arbiter suspiciously. The human did not appear to trust him, which was fine by the Arbiter.

"Then I shall return to my fleet and issue the orders," the Arbiter announced.

"Before you go, Arbiter, can you tell us anything about your people?" Valern asked.

"What is it you would have me tell you?" the Arbiter asked. _Accommodate them, Arbiter_, the Prophets had ordered.

"Who are these Prophets?" the salarian asked, desperate for information on his possible enemy. The Covenant had emerged dangerously close to salarian space.

"The High Prophets are the leaders of our Covenant, those who will guide us along the Path," the Arbiter explained, his tone being one he would use to address a child.

"The path to what?" Valern asked, leaning forward.

"The Great Journey," the Arbiter said reverently. "Transcending into the Divine Beyond."

Valern nodded sagely, taking in the statement.

"Will there be anything else?" the Arbiter asked.

"We'll be in touch tomorrow to check on your withdrawal," Sparatus said flatly.

"We won't keep you," Tevos said, smiling vibrantly. "Matriarch Lidanya will escort you back to your vessel."

"Thank you," the Arbiter said, stepping off of the pad. The lights came back on, and the asari Matriarch Lidanya reentered the room.

"I'm glad to hear the negotiations went well," Lidanya said, leaving the room and beginning up the hall.

"They did, there was not much to negotiate," the Arbiter said. "Hostilities were already ceased."

"It is good we don't have to fight it out," Lidanya said. They turned a corner and entered the hangar bay, where the asari arrayed on the catwalks had lowered their weapons. A few had approached the spirit, trying their best to communicate with the rangers, who to their credit remained stoic behind their opaque helmets.

"Brothers, prepare the ship for takeoff," the Arbiter ordered, and the rangers jumped into the troop bay while the repulsor engines spun up. He turned to the asari and said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Matriarch."

"Arbiter," Lidanya shouted as the Arbiter turned to enter the spirit. "Take this," she said, tossing him an omni-tool. "Put it on your wrist, you'll be in communication with the Council with that." She demonstrated how to use it briefly before standing away from the spirit.

"Very well," the Arbiter said, affixing it to a wrist plate.

As the Arbiter jumped into the troop bay with his men he didn't hear the Matriarch sigh and say, "Thank you for not blowing the hell out of my ship."

The spirit kicked off, sailing out of the airlock and back through space to the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_, where the Council of Masters waited.

With a few moments of thought to himself, the Arbiter contemplated his rapid ascent to the top of the sangheili ranks. Just a few cycles ago he was a lowly Ultra, but somehow found himself the Arbiter. The transition was dizzying, but he thought he had adjusted well. It would take a long time to truly adjust to such a position.

Eventually the spirit docked within the _Faith_, and the Arbiter strode confidently back to the Council of Masters. He found them waiting patiently, mostly in silence.

"Brothers," the Arbiter said as he entered the room and the Masters all stood at attention. "Be seated. The Fleet is to stop all offensive operations on the ice planet Noveria, on my authority as Arbiter."

"We have a guarantee the aliens will not fire upon us?" Fleet Master 'Tuyokee asked, his expression skeptical.

"We do. Withdraw your troops with all haste," the Arbiter ordered.

The signals units of every Master in the room went off simultaneously, announcing through simulated bell tolls that all aboard were to find a broadcast screen immediately. That could only mean big news from High Charity, more specifically from the Prophets themselves.

The holotank in the center changed to a broadcast from the Holy City, an image of the Forerunner dreadnought. The sangheili watched with rapt attentiveness as three san 'shyuum bearing the huge golden mantles of High Prophet on their shoulders maneuvered to the three legs of the dreadnought on the backs of three highly decorated barges covered in dozens of bouquets of colorful flowers and ribbons.

"A new Age?" the Fleet Master asked aloud.

"So it is," the Arbiter said, watching the ceremony unfold.

"It is the dawn of a new Age!" one of the san 'shyuum announced from before the center of the dreadnought—all three had traversed up the legs to the central area, where the Oracle existed. It was a tetrahedron whereupon each point was a leg of the ship and its pinnacle. The lights around the chamber dimmed to darkness at this point, even the great disc in the ceiling that lit the dreadnought.

Only the dreadnought itself was lit up, blue lights shining out of the windows made it seem as though it was the only thing in existence.

Then a light snapped on that illuminated the three san 'shyuum as they hovered above a truss linking two of the legs.

"He is the Prophet of Motivation, and he the Prophet of Sacrifice. I am the Prophet of Constraint, least worthy of us all," the ex-Minister of Etiology announced, sweeping his hands from Prophet to Prophet as he announced their names. "We are truly humbled by your faith in us, and we swear to guide you truly to the sacred rings, and lead you in their reclamation!"

At the mention of "Reclamation" the room was lit up by a massive projection of the Glyph at the apex of the dreadnought's upward-facing tower. The crowd erupted into thunderous celebration at that announcement, the sounds of cheering and applause echoing throughout the massive main chamber of High Charity. The Prophets bowed low, putting their hands to either side and flipping their palms up. It seemed as though the ornate crowns atop their long heads would tumble off and fall to the ground several hundred meters below, but they somehow remained in place as well as the mantles draped across their shoulders.

"Today marks the beginning of the Seventh Age of Reclamation! No longer shall we be in doubt," Constraint bellowed, to still more wild jubilation. Those kig-yar who adhered to the faith and nearly all sangheili, yanme'e, and unggoy celebrated all through the streets of the cities, and those lucky enough to have a view of the dreadnought jumped madly at the railing in religious fervor. Noticeably, albeit unsurprisingly, no lekgolo appeared in the celebrations. The worms were generally uninterested in religion, loyal though they were.

The three Prophets looked out over the crowds, grinning genuinely, unaware they were inheriting the biggest quandary the Covenant had ever faced in its long history. The problems of their ministries would pale in comparison to those they would face in the coming months.

* * *

The ex-Prophet of Serenity watched the ceremony from the docks, preparing to board a SDV-class Corvette going on patrol in the outer territories, ostensibly to observe the faithful out in the territories. The pacifists were going to lead the Covenant to ruin. He had enough clout to go on such an observance mission, and the fringes were where he wanted to be when it all came tumbling down.

The Corvette, _Rapid Ascension_, was casting off at the conclusion of the ceremony that Serenity wanted so desperately to end. He felt a black knot of fury unlike any he'd ever felt. Being coerced is one thing, it happens daily in politics. Having your waddle twisted like his was until he was forced to cede his position was entirely another. Contrition and Penitence may be pleased with mediocrity, but Serenity wasn't.

He was going to fix this, somehow. He only needed time.

A few minutes later the ceremony ended, and the _Rapid Ascension_ departed for the outer colonies, moving closer to the galactic rim. He had been set up in spacious quarters for such a small ship, and was afforded every courtesy by the ship's master. It was aboard this ship that he would begin his experiment.

"Tell me again about Noveria?" the Shipmaster Fenel Ikaporamee asked on the bridge. Twin view screens showed the great void, reminding a bitter Serenity of the Inner Sanctum. Unggoy moved around the stations in the lower sections of the bridge, and sangheili moved along the raised paths watching their subordinates. In the center of the room was a huge holotank that currently was inactive, but was capable of projecting a five-meter diameter sphere of information, especially useful for showing planetary maps.

"A planet rich with relics," Serenity explained, sitting before the view screens and recalling the planet's reliquary. "Hundreds of relics, thousands perhaps, lay clustered on the surface."

"Why, noble Prophet, has such a reliquary remained unexplored?" Ikaporamee asked.

"It was the reticence of the other Hierarchs that allowed these 'human' and 'turian' aliens to destroy the relics," Serenity continued. "We watched as they blinked out of existence, one after another. It was heresy of the highest order."

"Dare I say it, but that sounds treasonous," Ikaporamee said hesitantly.

"Ordinarily I would have you executed for such a statement regarding a Hierarch," Serenity threatened, truthfully. It was outrageous to accuse a High Prophet of treason. "However, I happen to agree with you, Shipmaster. Watching those relics be destroyed was sacrilege, and the other Hierarchs just watched!"

The sangheili was noticeably relieved. "What has happened while we were away? Why come out here to the very fringe of Covenant space?"

"I have to be away from the bureaucracy," Serenity lied. "It is most stifling on one's thought process. Out here in the frontier you have space."

"As I see it, out here we are left behind. May I say, though, I am honored you chose the _Rapid Ascension_ as your transport," Ikaporamee said, bowing.

"Good, thank you Shipmaster," Serenity said, leaving the Shipmaster to dwell on what he had explained. For his plan to work, the sangheili out here must come to his conclusion themselves. He floated through the ship's halls towards his quarters, which weren't hard to find on such a small vessel.

_And so the seeds are sown, and I shall be their tender. The heretics have overtaken High Charity, but the true believers exist on the frontier. _

* * *

_A/N:_

_Winter break means I'm going to have a lot of time on my hands, so I'm going to try to turn out a higher volume of chapters while I can. Also, I'm going to try to answer review questions down here. Yes, Udina is the Councilor because Shepard chose him over Anderson. I figured if he saved the Council he couldn't make all the right choices, ha ha. Also, Udina will make an interesting character when dealing with the Covenant, I think. _

_Regarding Brutes: According to the Halo wikia, jiralhanae were not encountered by the Covenant until the 2400's... 300 years after this story. The appearance of the spacecraft we all know and love (CCS-class battlecruisers, CSO-class supercarriers, etc.) is largely due to the fact that there is literally no existing record of pre-Human-Covenant War Covenant ships, and thus that's a sacrifice that has to be made. The races that compose the Covenant are fairly well-documented though, so I'm hugging that pretty closely. Sangheili and san 'shyuum formed the Covenant, kig-yar and unggoy were both impressed into membership very early into Covenant history, yanme'e joined later as well as lekgolo, and the very last race to join was jiralhanae. The rest make the cutoff, but the brutes do not. _

_As always, thanks for reading. Leave a review or shoot me a PM if you've got a burning question you need answered, and I'll do my best._

_JLake4_


	6. Corruption

The space around the Citadel was choked with ships of almost every single make and model in active service, and some that weren't, and hadn't been for years.

Of note were the dozens of Systems Alliance ships holding around the tips of the wards, the five massive wings that comprised of 90% of the Citadel, upon which millions of sentients lived. After Sovereign's attack on the Citadel a year prior the Alliance's Fifth Fleet had been transferred to cover for the Citadel Defense Force while it recuperated.

Augmenting the human ships were a few dozen turian vessels, but the flagship was still missing—the _Destiny Ascension_ was due to return today, with a representative vessel of this new alien conglomerate in tow. Much had been learned since the cease-fire called two weeks ago, and while both the Covenant fleet and the salarian Third Fleet watched each other warily, neither side had violated the truce, for their own reasons: the sangheili's strict attention to orders and the salarians' grim certainty that violating the cease-fire meant none of them would survive the following engagement.

Operators in the Citadel Tower, which controlled much of the function of the station, were ready to close the wards at a moment's notice if the aliens went hostile. Every preparation was made to save the Citadel at any cost—perhaps most notably to Admiral Steven Hackett, at the cost of the Fifth Fleet.

To any observer that was pretty obvious. Fifth Fleet was positioned directly between the inbound ships and the Citadel, meant to buy time and nothing more.

_This is what we get for saving their asses_, Hackett thought before he caught himself and sighed. He looked again at the disposition of his ships, and nodded. _This is as good as they're going to get_.

"The _Ascension_ and the alien ship are en route now, Admiral," the SSV _Orizaba_'scommunications officer announced. _Orizaba_ was brand new, just finished a few months back. Immediately Hackett made it his flagship, seeing it as an opportunity to show the Fleet that despite their losses they were still the front line of the Alliance's fleets.

"Thank you Lieutenant," Hackett said, looking to a small timer counting down to the _Destiny Ascension_'s ETA. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and imagining better times. He would've felt a lot better with his ace in the hole around. Shepard getting spaced last year was a loss no one wanted to admit to being as huge as it was. Hackett knew all too well that missions Shepard could accomplish quick and clean would now cost him men and materiel, neither of which he could sacrifice.

The greatest effect of Shepard's death was the serious hit the Alliance's morale took. Most people were still somewhat in the dark, but it was a poorly-kept secret. Once the Commander was out of the news a lot of people began to suspect, and Alliance denials that he was dead were largely viewed as confirmation of the opposite being true. These days the light in everyone's eyes was a little dimmer.

Hackett quit the nostalgia trip and checked out the timer. It had reached zero, leaving him to wonder how he'd dwelled on the topic for the better part of ten minutes.

Without warning the massive form of the _Destiny Ascension_ appeared, barely visible to the naked eye as far off as it was. What he saw next fascinated and terrified him—a ship easily six or seven times bigger appeared. Initial LADAR readings had it pegged at thirty kilometers long, which Hackett realized was three-quarters the length of the Citadel itself. The thing was massive. He found himself praying that it didn't become hostile, because if it did he was confident that it would take the whole turian fleet to bring it down.

"Holy… how do you stop that thing?" the LADAR technician nearly shouted before he got a hold of himself and blushed, clearing his throat.

Hackett ignored the outburst and waited. The _Ascension_ being operable was a good sign, and he watched the two ships approach through space.

"Fifth Fleet, this is _Destiny Ascension_. Covenant vessel 'Faith and Glorious Redemption' is in tow, we'll leave her to you once we reach your lines," Matriarch Lidanya, commanding officer of the _Ascension_, said through the communications line that terminated at Admiral Hackett's terminal.

"Understood _Ascension_, we'll take good care of her," Hackett replied. _What the hell kind of name is 'Faith and Glorious Redemption'_?

True to their word, the _Destiny Ascension_ passed through the Fifth Fleet's lines, heading towards the Presidium for refueling. Hackett noticed the subtle increase in her speed, smirking a little at the great _Destiny Ascension_ essentially fleeing from a foe. It was sad, really, that such a beautiful ship's spirit was broken like the _Ascension_'s. The geth nearly destroying her had done something to the crew and to the skipper, and it was noticeable.

The massive alien ship drew to a stop before the comparatively tiny Alliance ships. He was surprised to see he was being hailed, and directed the ship's VI to open up communications.

"Human shipmaster, we have been directed to you by the asari, where would you have us go?" the deep voice of the alien asked.

"Faith and Glorious Redemption, hold position here. Dispatch any dignitaries to the Presidium ring at the far end of the station. A handler will take you from there," Hackett said into the intercom.

"Very well," the alien replied, and broke the connection. Several minutes later the ship's barriers dropped to allow out a relatively small transport which tore off toward the Presidium under escort from two smaller ships the troops had nicknamed banshees. It wasn't easy to tell why in the vacuum, but according to several eyewitness interviews conducted by evacuees the things were loud and shrieked as they flew. Hackett had to appreciate the psychological element there.

A new signal appeared on his console, this one from C-Sec. "Did you clear them through?" the easily recognizable voice of Executor Pallin asked.

"Yes, I did," Hackett replied curtly. He and the Executor didn't have an easy history. Hackett spent most of his time in orbit as a result, trying to keep away from the prying turian.

"Excellent. The Council wanted me to pass along a request that you joined them for the reception," Pallin said. "They wanted the face of the defense force to be present," he added derisively.

"I'll be there," Hackett growled.

"Very good," the Executor replied before breaking the connection.

_Faith and Glorious Redemption_ inched toward the Presidium, dispatching several drop ships, which the SSV _Orizaba_ followed until it dispatched its own kodiak shuttle.

The Docking bays in the Presidium were unequipped to accept spirit drop ships, which did not utilize the airlock-docking tube combination most ships in the Citadel used. As a result, the Covenant delegation had to dock on the lower docks, the F-level docks.

Hackett, on the other hand, was able to dock higher up, in the B-levels, reserved for very important persons on Citadel business. He stood on the Presidium for nearly a half hour before he saw the first signs of the aliens, something that brought the Marine detachment to attention before he could even issue the order.

They were huge, as tall as or taller than your average krogan. However, they were not nearly as bulky. Their necks were long, and their movements graceful. They had the size and presumably the strength of the krogan, but their movement showed they had agility and intelligence.

The armor they wore looked intricate, shiny red armor pads covered their bodies and were covered in bright orange lights. They were topped with a headdress that was at least two feet high, and looked like a pair of pincers reaching toward a point high above their head, but not quite making it.

In each of their hands was a long staff topped by the same bright orange light from their armor. Their catlike eyes cast furtive glances at Hackett and his Marines, who seemed small by comparison.

After two dozen of the aliens marched into the Presidium another alien arrived, floating through the air on some kind of throne. This one also had a lengthy neck, and floated past Hackett unceremoniously, following and followed by a train of the crimson-clad aliens.

Hackett watched them go and had his group fall in behind the aliens, walking at a quick pace toward the Citadel Tower. He noticed the looks of bewilderment on the faces of the Presidium's passers-by, who stopped to stare at the procession. He had hoped there would be a krogan present for a size comparison, but unsurprisingly there wasn't. Krogan were not a common sight on the Citadel, let alone on the Presidium.

They reached the base of the Citadel Tower, and the red-clad aliens cleared out the atrium before the elevator and the plaza in front of the Tower, forming a protective circle about the one other alien. It didn't take much to conclude that that alien was the leader, perhaps the very leader of the Covenant.

Getting to the elevator took the better part of two hours as it shuttled the Covenant's aliens up in groups of six at a time. A small detachment of the guardian aliens remained behind, guarding the elevator itself.

As he and his men approached the forward most alien raised its hand in a gesture to halt, which they did. It leered at the thirteen humans standing before it while it waited for confirmation that they were allowed up, which it received quickly. Hackett and company proceeded into the elevator, riding up in two groups of six and seven. Hackett was with the first group.

The ride was punctuated with an ANN report on the arrival of the staggeringly large alien vessel over the Citadel and the ensuing diplomatic summit in the Citadel Tower. The ride was mostly silent, and the elevator stopped at the very top floor—the Council chamber. He had become a common sight in the past year in the chamber.

Just past the elevator trees were in full bloom, arching over to create a sort of foliage tunnel through which they advanced to get into the chamber. A sort of open-air antechamber existed here, dominated by an ornate fountain. Past that were a pair of stairwells into the chamber proper, and those were guarded again by the large red-armored aliens.

They merely watched as the Admiral advanced between them and up the stairs, emerging onto the plaza wherein the vast bulk of the guardians rested. They formed an omni-present orange glow in excess even of that of the trees that circled the fountain here. C-Sec officers mingled with the aliens, keeping wary eyes on them and a hand not far from their weapons.

A nervous-looking asari spotted the Admiral and approached.

"Admiral Hackett, the Councilors are holding the meeting in the garden," the asari said, motioning for him to follow. Hackett ordered all but two Marines to join the C-Sec officers and guardians around the room.

The asari lead him around to another elevator along the periphery of the room. They rode the elevator down one floor and emerged into a white corridor that, if Hackett's sense of geography was true, turned toward the Petitioner's Stage.

True it was, because the asari led them to a decidedly less white door, a definite sign that it hadn't been replaced after the battle. It opened easily enough, though, revealing the garden beneath the Council chamber with a ceiling of transparent aluminum.

Soft music played, and the ambassadors of every Citadel race mingled and hung around the Councilors—Tevos, Sparatus, Valern, and Udina. That was interesting to Hackett. Across from the Councilors floated the Covenant alien, whose back was turned to Hackett. His two Marines joined two alien guardians and two C-Sec officers by the door, all of whom looked uncomfortable to be in such close proximity to each other.

Hackett stood on the periphery of the room, eying Executor Pallin as he hovered behind the Councilors in a flashy dress uniform. Contrary to that, Hackett had opted to dress more humbly. The alien on the hover chair was dressed in ornate purple robes, his long head adorned by a huge golden grown with a holographic circle set in the face of it.

Everyone in the room talked in that polite hushed voice while the five main participants talked house, and Hackett followed suit. He found himself talking with his peer, Admiral Lennius, about nonclassified aspects of Citadel defense. Conversation began to drift to personal matters, namely Earth and his home world of Invictus.

Midway through the conversation they heard the voices of the alien and the Councilors become more defined. It immediately struck him that they may be arguing, which had him peer out of the corner of his eye at the two aliens guarding the door.

"None can stay the Great Journey, friends," the floating alien said a little loudly.

"What is that?" Sparatus, the turian Councilor, asked.

"The Great Journey is the moment whereupon the worthy transcend this mortal world and join with the Gods," the alien explained, pronouncing each word with a sort of reverence that chilled Hackett.

"How do you initiate it?" Sparatus asked.

"Ah, I can not share that with unclean ears. I mean no offense, of course," the alien replied.

"That's quite alright," Tevos interjected. "I see everyone has arrived. I will introduce you to the dignitaries present."

The asari moved around the room with the alien in tow, introducing them all to each other. Eventually she came to Hackett, and he got a good long look at the alien's face. It appeared to have a permanent sneer that bore its sharp teeth, and its eyes seemed cold. It put Hackett ill at ease immediately.

"This is Admiral Steven Hackett, of the human Systems Alliance. He's on loan to the Citadel to aid our defense forces after the battle that happened last year," Tevos said to the alien. "Admiral, I'd like you to meet the High Prophet of Sacrifice, of the Covenant."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Hackett said, performing a short bow.

"The pleasure is all mine, Admiral," the Prophet replied, returning the gesture in kind and casting another glance at him. "I heard your men performed quite admirably in the conflict last year. I wished you to know that I will meditate and ponder their sacrifice as an example by which all the Covenant should follow."

"You honor their memories," Hackett said, warming to the Prophet considerably.

"Yes," the Prophet said after a moment's thought. "Perhaps you should meet with some of my fleet masters. They could learn from your maneuvering."

"I would love that opportunity," Hackett replied, standing resolute against the Prophet's gaze.

"Very well," the Prophet said quickly, straightening up in his chair. "I will issue the order as soon as this event concludes."

"Thank you," Hackett replied, and he watched the alien move on. Tevos gave him a knowing look as she passed, and he all at once felt as though he was being put on the spot.

He watched them move on and return to their own circle where presumably they returned to a hushed political discussion. Hackett turned back to Lennius.

"He invited you aboard that behemoth?" Lennius asked, his mandibles betraying his awe as he spoke.

"Yes," Hackett replied. "I won't see a tenth of that ship, I guarantee it. It's just too big."

"They won't show the important areas, either. Probably they'll take you to the bridge and the engine room, maybe to a weapons battery. It's what we would do," Lennius chuckled, grinning.

"I believe it," Hackett agreed, inwardly trying to guess how long it would take to walk from stem to stern on that ship. He ended up figuring it would probably take more than a few hours if they didn't have some kind of rapid transit aboard. He sincerely hoped it did.

"Make sure you get some good intel on it. I'm hoping it's got weak shields, or it'll take the whole Hierarchy to bring it down," Lennius said, sobering up.

"I don't even want to imagine what it would take the Alliance, then," Hackett agreed, turning back to look at the Prophet as he spoke with the Councilors.

* * *

"Chief Williams," Captain Banks whispered from behind as Ashley crawled up the hill to the front line.. She stopped cold and waited for the Captain, stiffening as the CO of Able Company approached, even if he had only just arrived from the Arcturus Station Officer Training Academy. Prestigious as it was, going to ASOTA was no substitute for experience, something Ashley had and the reconstituted 212th Marine Brigade needed badly.

"What's the situation?" Banks asked quietly.

"Just a moment," Ashley replied, nodding toward the hilltop.

Operations Chief Ashley Williams inched to the top of the hill surveyed the area around Constant, the capital of Eden Prime. The fields rolled away from the only conventional city on the planet's surface—that is to say, the only one not housed in an arcology stretching hundreds of meters into the sky.

Suddenly, away to her right, the rattle of an M8 Avenger rang out across the field. It was joined by two more, and afterwards it seemed as though at least one whole squad was firing rapidly.

Ashley looked for their target and only managed to see three tall shadows slink through the dark toward the company.

"Captain, you've got three targets bearing down on the right flank. They were moving fast," Williams reported, noting the change in Banks' demeanor.

"Right," Banks said in his distinct Australian accent. He turned to his omni-tool and opened communications with the squad leader. "What's the situation Marquez?"

"Multiple contacts closing fast. We're firing but they won't be suppressed, sir, over," Marquez reported over the chatter of the assault rifles.

"Keep firing," Banks replied. He turned back to Ashley. "Send in the reserves, help Marquez. They can't hold."

"Yes, sir," Ashley replied, issuing the order silently through her own omni-tool. As they watched the fighting unfold to their right the sound of the boots of their reserve squad making way up the line. As expected, the firing intensified. The troops of Echo squad fell in behind those of Alpha squad, reinforcing their position as they were ordered.

"Counting two tangos down, Able actual, threat neutralized," Marquez responded as the fire slackened a few seconds later. Banks didn't quite have enough time to crack a smile before explosions ripped through the left side of the line and Ashley turned in time to see at least a dozen targets advancing across no-man's-land.

"Oh, shit," Banks shouted. "Echo, reinforce Charlie! Quickly!"

"Too late," Ashley said, pointing to the left, where a half-dozen individuals approached with weapons drawn, firing into their lines from behind. She watched as the men who were hit stiffened and stopped moving altogether.

Abruptly she stood and raised her right hand, firing a signal flare into the air. "It's over!"

A team of medics emerged onto the field and began to check the soldiers who'd been hit by the modified disruptor rounds while the 'survivors' assembled at the foot of the hill. Banks stood, dusting himself off and casting his eyes down.

"Captain, Baker company baited you in with a feint on your right flank before hitting you with the strength of the company on your left, collapsing your lines. You suffered sixty-six per cent casualties before the conclusion of the scenario," Ashley reported, noticing again that Banks shrunk away from the report.

"I understand, Chief," Banks replied.

"Captain Banks, Chief Williams," a new voice announced as a Kodiak shuttle touched down, disgorging a single passenger.

The two snapped to attention and saluted the approach of Colonel Veers, CO of the whole 212th Marine Brigade. He returned the salute crisply, looking to Ashley to give her report, which she did.

"Able Company deployed as directed across the front of Hill 237, with Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie squads forming a front in that order from right to left and Echo squad held in reserve. Baker Company sent a fire team at the right flank and drew in Echo squad before hitting Charlie squad with the strength of the Company, routing them," Ashley stated, staring forward and standing rigid.

"At ease," the Colonel said, and the two others stood at ease, spreading their feet somewhat. "Never rush into a decision, Captain."

"Yes, sir," Banks acknowledged, while looking toward the troopers just getting off of the ground.

"Collect Able Company and get 'em back to base," the Colonel said, sending Banks into action getting his troops together. A series of four Kodiak shuttles were already assembled in a broad semicircle behind the hill, and the crews were checking out their vessels, preparing them for flight.

"Chief Williams, we're going to be stepping up drills with disruptor rounds and against strongly-shielded opponents, effective tomorrow," Veers said quietly. "You heard about Noveria, yes?"

"Yes sir," Ashley replied. "I'll get the drills planned as soon as we return to base."

"Very good," Veers said. Banks had returned to the group after issuing the order to embark on the Kodiaks. Veers turned to depart in his own shuttle, which took off as soon as he was aboard, disappearing into the low-hanging clouds.

"What happened on Noveria?" Banks asked after the sounds of Colonel Veers' Kodiak faded away to nothing, but before the four below them were loaded.

"You didn't hear, sir?" Ashley asked.

"I've been trying to get this company together, I don't have time to browse ANN reports in the morning, Chief," Banks replied a little crossly. He sighed. "I heard whispers among the men but haven't really felt motivated to look it up myself."

"Don't worry about it, sir," Ashley replied. "Some aliens showed up over Noveria and just about torched the colony. The lizards are telling us they've got extremely powerful barriers, and some kind of tech that brings ours down in one shot."

Banks whistled. "How did a raid on Noveria _not_ end up in a war?"

"Some heavy politicking, I guess," Ashley said, grinning. "You're sure you didn't know? There was a summit yesterday. It was huge news! You should keep up on your current events, Captain."

"I'll try harder," Banks replied, losing some of his melancholy. The two strode down the hill toward the shuttles, surrounded as they were by about two hundred men and women. The first trip was about to depart, as the shuttle's crews were warning the Marines to back away from the thrusters, lest they get hit by exhaust that could melt the hull of a cruiser. They were still pretty green, and with those aliens around it worried Ashley they weren't prepared for a real fight.

Banks and Williams watched the four shuttles kick off into the air, soaring over Constant and into the clouds toward the base on the other side of the city. As they awaited their return, the clouds began to build, and across the fields a distant rumble of thunder rolled toward them.

* * *

"This is the corvette _Rapid Ascension_, requesting permission to refuel and dock," Shipmaster Ikaporamee spoke through the opened communications channel between his relatively small vessel and the massive assault carrier in high orbit around the far distant colony world of Final Respite.

"This is the assault carrier _Kindred Souls_," a sangheili voice said after a moment. "What is your cargo and destination?"

"We hold no cargo, and our destination is Final Respite," Ikaporamee replied quickly. "We're here on the business of the Prophets."

"What proof do you offer?" the _Kindred Souls_ plied.

"I am among them," Serenity spoke out. "The High Prophet of Serenity."

"I apologize," the sangheili said, cowed by the appearance of the Prophet. "Please, approach. Docking will be made available immediately."

"Very good," Serenity said, breaking the connection. He turned to Ikaporamee. "Take us to the vessel with all possible haste."

"Of course," Ikaporamee said, punching a few buttons on his console. The corvette shuddered as it accelerated toward the assault carrier now appearing to loom above it. Below them the calm white surface of Final Respite reflected light from the star through the windows, casting a clean white light throughout the bridge, which reflected harshly off of the polished purple surfaces within the bridge.

The scene was oddly silent as the ship approached its target; no one was willing to speak. Many had too much to contemplate, for it had been a long journey of proselytizing for the Prophet, who had worked to inform each crewman of the travesty aboard the Holy City. The crew had steeled themselves, knowing now that they were some of the very few enlightened.

For his part, Ikaporamee knew now why Serenity had fled to the frontier. The coreward systems had been deceived. Out here where news was slower to travel and communities were tighter-knit he could raise the alarm and return to the Holy City with the truly faithful.

Through some careful maneuvering the _Rapid Ascension_ drifted below the docking tubes of the _Kindred Souls_. Plasma was vented from underneath the ship, propelling it toward the carrier slowly. With a hardly noticeable shudder the Rapid Ascent linked to the _Kindred Souls_.

"Shipmaster, recall what I have said and do not forget it. The very soul of our blessed Covenant is at stake. I must part ways with you now to spread the word to the _Kindred Souls_," Serenity said, placing a hand on the shoulder of Shipmaster Ikaporamee.

"You honor me, Holy One," Ikaporamee said, kneeling before Serenity. Serenity nodded and floated by, navigating through the ship to the docking tube, which he proceeded through.

He was met on the far end of the tube by an assembly of the ships' officers, led by the Shipmaster of the _Kindred Souls_.

"Most Holy Prophet, welcome aboard the _Kindred Souls_. Our crew is at your command," the Shipmaster said. Serenity swept his eyes to the left and right, observing nearly one hundred and fifty officers assembled from throughout the ship.

"You humble me," Serenity said, advancing toward the Shipmaster. "However I have a grave matter I must discuss with you immediately."

The Shipmaster was notably taken aback. "What has transpired?"

"Corruption," Serenity replied cryptically. He pressed his three-fingered hands together and folded them together before his face. "Where can we speak?"

"I will make someplace," the Shipmaster replied, leading the Prophet from the room.

He made his now well-practiced speech to the Shipmaster, who was immediately held captive by his confusion. The confusion resolved itself into indignation and later fury at having been deceived by those aboard High Charity, and he called the crew together to hear the story later that day.


	7. Division

It had been many cycles since the beginning of the current Age, and the reports coming out of the Fringe were… unsettling. The Ministry of Abnegation was buzzing with activity, with several of its departments trying to figure out what was wrong. There were reports coming back, but they seemed to be off in some way.

In secret a crew of Ascetics was assembled aboard a corvette due to be sent out to the Fringe. They'd be disguised as a technical crew, as it was uncertain what was happening and if they charged in the whole situation may get unstable, or at the worst it could be hidden.

That corvette would be arriving at Final Respite within the hour, now.

Aboard the corvette the 'technical crew' had stripped off their disguises and was now dressed in the armor of the average sangheili warrior, the blue combat harness.

The Ascetics were an elite organization within the Ministry charged with the maintenance and enforcement of faith within and upon the Covenant, respectively.

The leader of the squad of one dozen Ascetic sangheili, Bilis 'Vususai, affixed his energy sword to his hip, waiting for his squad to finish suiting up. The door was locked, and on occasion the scraping of an unggoy's breathing apparatus as it loped up the hall could be heard. The ship was buzzing with activity as they entered the atmosphere of the planet, cleared by the garrison in orbit to do so.

They left the room after setting a rendezvous point outside of the ship, in a plaza ordinarily reserved for mass prayer when called for by the Prophets. They had a map of the main star port hidden away and had planned their operations on the weeks-long journey.

"Now hear this: give thanks for our safe passage and depart those who would do so, for the ship will leave once refueled," a voice said over the shipwide communications network.

"We must be going," 'Vususai said as the door opened, and he led the Ascetics into the hallway. They kept a loose formation as they traveled through the ship to the hangar bay, where they could disembark.

Final Respite was a cold planet, but a habitable one. The weather was disagreeable to sangheili but the unggoy found it enjoyable, despite the atmosphere requiring them to wear their breathing apparatus. The sky was obscured by low-hanging clouds bearing more snow, which the heated space port melted automatically to keep the ships docked there from freezing up.

Around them, contrary to the claret color of the ships, the architecture was mostly stone. It was the most abundant resource to create shelters with, and using the metal used to build ships to build a colony would've deprived the Navy of resources it needed, rendering the very same colony very poorly defended.

'Vususai's team had scattered across the star port, mingling with the overseers of the dockworkers and asking apparently pertinent questions about the colony, solidifying the illusion that they were a technical team looking for a malfunctioning reactor in the city center.

At the far end of the open cobblestone plaza, also kept clear of snow, the team regrouped, noticing that along the paths through the city an unusual number of holotanks displaying the visage of a prophet were set up.

That would be no cause for alarm, just a show of piety; however, the prophet in question was the High Prophet of Serenity, not one of the current triumvirate. This was not piety, it was heresy. Something was very seriously amiss.

'Vususai turned about upon identifying the hierarch on display, facing his team of sangheili. "Six of you make way to the reactor, to keep up appearances. The remainder will follow me to the city center."

Without words the team acknowledged and split, and 'Vususai watched the other six move up the grey street and out of sight.

The second team had a much easier task. At the center of every city was a temple, where administrative tasks were undertaken and where prayer was conducted every day. That building was built out of the durable metal that the Navy used, and it meant to symbolize the integrity of the faith.

Every path in the city terminated at the temple, also an architectural symbol: though there can be many ways to walk the Path, it will always end at the Journey.

After a short walk, as Final Respite was a relatively small colony, 'Vususai's team arrived at the foot of the temple, guarded by a squad of sangheili soldiers. Many unggoy milled about, moving from place to place. Many bore the scars of miners or constructors, they lived hard lives but 'Vususai felt sure they never doubted their faith. If they did, they would not be alive to walk the streets of the city.

He approached the captain of the guard, walking with the confident stride not attributed to a technician—almost by definition a sangheili rendered invalid by a serious wounding but who did not die or take his own life. They were both renowned for their prowess and reviled for their status as almost without honor.

"Halt," the captain of the guard said. "No such person as yourself shall enter this temple."

"I have urgent business with the city cleric," 'Vususai said, well aware that the guard would not stand down.

"I cannot allow that," the guard replied, and 'Vususai weighed his options. He had to get inside of the building, one way or another. His final resort was the concealed sword on his hip, and he knew he'd be able to cleave his way into the building with that. By then, though, the city garrison would be called forth and would surround the building, and his mission would be a failure.

"Brother," 'Vususai said, noting the sangheili stiffening as he was addressed as 'brother' by one he perceived to be so dishonored. "I am of the Ministry of Abnegation, an Ascetic. We must get within the building."

The sangheili cast an odd glance up at him, clearly contemplating something. 'Vususai's hand found the hilt of his sword just as the other sangheili shoved him back and leveled his weapon on him. "Heretics! Raise the alarm, brothers, there are heretics among us!"

Across the city sirens went off, and the whole area was locked down. 'Vususai and his men drew their blades, igniting them and charging the temple. The captain of the guard fell before he could fire a well-aimed shot, having traded his life for raising the alarm. His men were prepared to stall the Ascetics, who were heavily armored beneath their humble garb.

The five sangheili atop the stairs leading to the temple fell as well, their plasma rifles barely scratching the strong shielding of the Ascetics. Naturally, though, the door was locked by now, the city Cleric was trapped within.

Around the temple holographic screens lit up, flashing into a brilliant blue existence across every flat surface. The face of a san 'shyuum appeared, looking decidedly angry, and it shouted, "Brothers who walk the true Path! Heretics have infiltrated our holy temple, and seek to silence me! They seek to lead our Covenant astray, to consort with those unworthy aliens!"

"What blasphemy is this?" an Ascetic behind 'Vususai asked, re-igniting his energy sword and stepping forward to cleave at the sealed door.

"It is no use, brother, the door is sealed. We must wait for heavier machinery to arrive," 'Vususai said, looking for the nearest flat grey structure, spotting a domicile a short run from the temple. "With me, brothers, come with me!"

He lead the group across the garden before the temple, barren though it was on this freezing planet, and through the doors of the structure. A simple fireplace was centered in the entryway, burning merrily and casting a warm glow on the unggoy crouched around it.

"What wrong?" one of the unggoy grunted, standing to face the sangheili.

"Be seated!" 'Vususai said, pushing past them and finding a way upstairs. "This way!"

The five other sangheili pushed past the unggoy, leaving them with confused looks for a few moments before they went back to warming themselves on the fire.

Upstairs the six sangheili watched the temple. Shortly afterwards a low pitched hum became apparent, and at the far end of the garden a pair of Type-26 assault gun carriages turned the corner and advanced on the temple, escorted by a lance of unggoy lead by a singular sangheili. Decidedly it was a fatally weak response, something 'Vususai would be very unforgiving of.

"Let them get close, and take back the assault guns. We shall use them to cleanse this temple of the sacrilege that has defiled it," he muttered, watching the first responders advance.

"What shall we do afterwards?" another Ascetic asked.

"We shall see what remains to be done. The faith of Final Respite is being threatened by a malicious defiler, who we must silence before anything else," 'Vususai explained. It was unnecessary, his men knew that was their primary mission, and each was prepared to die for the cause. That their commander had not developed a plan after destroying the temple clued them in to the fact that this mission may be their last, and some enjoyed the irony of the planet's name applied to their current situation. This could very well be their final respite from combat.

The unggoy loped ahead, running toward the fallen sangheili outside of the temple, searching for their assailants on all fours. The singular sangheili followed behind, checking windows for snipers, although he ceased his search when he got to the bodies and saw their wounds. They were not dealt death at the hand of a plasma bolt, but on the tip of an energy sword. He got much more wary and ceased to scan windows.

Behind him the two assault guns moved forward, and the nearer of the two parked just under the window, wheeling about to face outward from the temple. As it wheeled, 'Vususai ignited his sword and leapt from the window, aiming directly for the crew compartment with the blade pointed downward. When he landed, the blade drove down and into the unsuspecting driver's head. The compartment opened up as 'Vususai wrenched back on the door.

He swung himself down into the armored vehicle and threw the previous occupant out, with the door sliding closed behind him and the controls lighting up. He saw on the external motion sensors the rest of his team charging the second gun carriage as he wheeled his around to face the temple, charging the plasma mortar.

The second gun carriage fell, and the infantry found themselves outgunned. The unggoy scattered, but the sangheili stood fast and was charged by three Ascetics. He fired madly at the attackers, bringing down the shields of two before the third drove his energy sword into the sangheili's chest. They withdrew as the two guns charged and loosed plasma mortars at the temple, the superheated shots burning into the metal and through it.

"The fools seek to burn me!" the prophet shouted from his video screens throughout the city. "They cannot silence us! Their heresy will not go unpunished!"

Another six targets appeared on the motion sensors, denoting the arrival of the second half of the team of Ascetics. "Master, we've arrived to aid you."

"Excellent," 'Vususai exclaimed, disembarking from the gun carriage and assigning another of his Ascetics to it. He motioned to the other nine. "Four of you wait out here, five follow me. We shall clear the temple."

The five other sangheili fell into step with him as they moved toward the gaping hole burnt through the façade of the temple.

They jumped through the breach, through fire and smoke, landing in a darkened room that was intended to be illuminated with holographs, but due to their fire the holographs had been destroyed. The ground was littered with debris and more than a few bodies, all those of sangheili. The lesser races would not be permitted within the premises, unless these separatists truly had changed things.

As usual with such structures, the most important office was at the pinnacle. They had no intelligence on how many guards to expect, but six Ascetics were enough of a match for double that number of regular infantry.

'Vususai crept through the blackness toward the far end of the temple, guided by a blue glow emanating from it. Once he reached the wall he found a gravity lift on both sides of the path. He motioned the team forward and jumped onto the lift, feeling himself propelled upward in a short corridor of antigravity.

The next floor was guarded by sangheili zealots, something wholly unexpected to the Ascetics. 'Vususai ignited his energy sword and lead the Ascetics against the line of zealots—the numbers were even, six of each side. Their weapons were far more advanced than those they'd encountered downstairs, and tore through the shielding of 'Vususai's men. Two fell before they could close the range.

The zealot nearest 'Vususai saw him coming and leveled his concussion rifle in time for 'Vususai to lop the barrel off with his sword, causing the zealot to throw the now-useless weapon at him, stopping his progress long enough for the zealot to draw its own energy sword and ignite it.

He slashed down at the zealot's leg, but his drive was parried into the ground and he felt the zealot's fist crash into his helmet, sending 'Vususai reeling backward. With a bit of luck he remained on his feet and was able to parry the zealot's blow, giving him a moment to kick the zealot's arm out and slide his blade up the zealot's, slashing it up into his opponent's shoulder, causing him to involuntarily drop his sword.

His sword drove into the zealot's chest, and he looked up to see the state of the battle. Three zealots lay dead, as well as four Ascetics. He had only one man left. 'Vususai activated his communications unit and said, "Destroy the temple, now!"

A zealot turned to face him, no longer observing the duel between the Ascetic and the zealot. 'Vususai ignited his sword and charged to meet him, crossing blades with the zealot, but the duel never started—a plasma mortar slammed into the temple, shaking it violently and throwing the sangheili off their feet.

Metal fell away in bright molten globs, sizzling as it hit the floor. The sangheili would not be distracted, though—the duels resumed amid the second plasma mortar hitting the ground floor.

With a roar the zealot charged 'Vususai, holding its sword low and to the left, slashing diagonally across the Ascetic's front. 'Vususai jumped backward, dodging the blow and driving upward with his own sword, knocking the zealot's further up. In that moment, he lashed out with his foot and kicked the zealot square in the chest, knocking it backward.

Another plasma mortar splashed into the breach, spraying plasma across the room, burning everything and jarring parts of the ceiling loose, including one that fell between 'Vususai and his assailant. The unoccupied zealot had run to the window to try to suppress the gun carriages with a concussion rifle, and he was hit directly with the plasma mortar and smote from existence almost instantly.

"Master, we're under attack from more of the heretics, we cannot bring the building down without risking letting them in behind you," one of his men on the ground announced suddenly as 'Vususai's ears stopped ringing from the near miss. Another round slammed into the ground floor, making the building sway noticeably.

"Fight them," 'Vususai ordered, looking at the zealot lying before him, trapped beneath the fallen rubble. He finished the zealot off and looked for his remaining man. The Ascetic was wounded grievously by plasma burns, his armor charred black and malformed. "Are you able to stand, brother?"

"No, I cannot," the Ascetic wheezed. "… my sword, please."

Despite the debris all across the floor, 'Vususai found the gold hilt of the energy sword and returned to his comrade, pressing it into his hand. "You fought with honor, this day. Walk the Path with that knowledge."

"Thank you," the Ascetic said, losing the battle to remain conscious.

Alone, now, 'Vususai proceeded to the next gravity lift, one that led directly into the Cleric's office. He soared up the tall spire, reaching the bulbous top of the building and coming face to face with a lone san 'shyuum he recognized very well.

"Welcome to my tomb," the Prophet of Serenity said, a malicious grin spreading across his face. "Though it was you who made it so. This could have been a place from where our Covenant would cleanse itself and smite the defiling aliens. Now you've martyred me and increased my influence further than I could ever hope to have achieved through preaching."

"Hold your tongue," 'Vususai said, advancing on the Prophet. "You are no martyr, you are a heretic. Your actions threatened to cast _my_ Covenant into chaos."

"_Your_ Covenant? Do you not see that _your_ Covenant is being corrupted even as we speak? I have watched as they consorted with the very aliens who destroyed countless relics so many cycles ago. That, my young Ascetic, is the true heresy committed today," Serenity argued, his voice silken in its effort to sway the sangheili.

"Be silent, worm," 'Vususai growled. "I will not let your words cast shadows over my faith."

"You would do better than to refer to me as such! Remember your station, sangheili!" Serenity yelled, his façade breaking. "I am the High Prophet of Serenity! You are but dirt beneath my heels!"

The building rocked again, something having exploded on the ground. The metal creaked ominously, and now that he could see the horizon, the Ascetic saw just how badly the building was swaying. It bent at angles he knew had to be near its breaking point.

Silently, he looked up at the Prophet, unsure of what to do. He knew his mission was reconnaissance, but this was an affront to the Gods themselves. He ignited his energy sword, and the san 'shyuum knew he'd lost this contest of wits. Whether it was due to the sangheili's intransigence or to his own failings as a preacher, he would not have time to speculate.

'Vususai grabbed the Prophet and threw him from his throne against the window, where his weak legs gave out and he fell to the ground. He feebly raised a hand toward the oncoming sangheili. "Wait! Do you not see?"

Tired of his words, the Ascetic refused to stop, and drove his blade deep within the Prophet's chest. His body wriggled, rejecting the onset of death but failing to do so successfully, and he rattled his last breath as he lay against the window, motionless.

Outside the battle seemed to stop, and upon looking out the window 'Vususai realized with horror that his assassination had been broadcast live throughout the city mere minutes after he was decried as a heretic. The slackened jaw of the Prophet seemed open in some mockery of his efforts, simultaneously a laugh and an "I told you so."

He had martyred the Prophet, what was more is he had done it live before the entire colony and the garrison in orbit. The situation was grave, and his team would likely not escape alive.

As the building shuddered from another impact, 'Vususai left the pinnacle and lofted down to the second floor on the gravity lift, to the place where his comrades had died. He said a short prayer before turning to the hole the plasma mortar had blasted into the wall and jumping through it, falling one story to the ground and landing on his feet among his remaining men.

"Commander, the whole city appears to be awakening. We've held them off, but lost one of the two gun carriages. The driver escaped unharmed. If we seek to get word of this insurrection off of the planet, we must act now," an Ascetic shouted over the remaining gun carriage's most recent shot. A few shots impacted the ground near them and sizzled.

"Well done, brother. How many are we?" 'Vususai replied, matching his subordinate's tone.

"Our numbers have not changed," his underling answered. "There are eight of us."

"Now we must return to the star port and stow away on the corvette upon which we arrived," 'Vususai announced.

"How shall we do that?" the subordinate asked, ducking as a plasma grenade went off nearby. The gun carriage fired again, with the plasma mortar landing directly in the midst of a lance that had turned the corner. The driver of the remaining gun carriage had found the range to the main entrance to the plaza and was shelling it as soon as anything attempted entry.

"We must lose these pursuers!" 'Vususai shouted, beckoning to the dozens of dead that lie before the temple and the entryway beyond them. "Abandon the gun carriage, as long as it sits there they will not approach. Set its battery to overload. Follow me out of the plaza!"

His Ascetics abandoned the tank as ordered, following him to the same building they'd hidden in before. They passed through the building and he traversed several alleyways, hearing an explosion and a massive crash several minutes after their escape.

They met no one as they ran through the back streets, seeking to get to the star port without obstruction and succeeding in that goal.

Klaxons rang out across the city as their escape was known, and the team of Ascetics knew it would only be a matter of time before the space port was locked down if it wasn't already locked down.

As they arrived on the plaza surrounding the star port, they noticed several circular anti-infantry turrets being set down by drop ships and knew they had but minutes before their escape would be blocked.

'Vususai turned around and looked at his men. They'd accrued a collection of weapons from their fallen opponents—a carbine, two plasma rifles, three plasma pistols, and a concussion rifle. "Pass me the carbine."

With the scope he could see through the snow a little better—only one shade was operable, and that alone couldn't stop all his men. There were barely visible sangheili patrolling the pad, and along the rim were several teams of kig-yar marksmen. Beyond them all was their goal: the corvette. It was readying itself for launch, they were sure. There were only minutes.

Handing the carbine back, 'Vususai turned back to the team. "Try to sneak in. If we're unsuccessful, priority one is the turret. Without it their defenders will fall."

The Ascetics advanced across the plaza, the snow concealing them as it fell in heavier sheets. They reached the launch pad and an unggoy spotted them. "Who you? What you want?"

"We are here to board that ship!" 'Vususai shouted over the wind as it whipped over the raised spaceport.

"City locked down, ship no taking off," the unggoy replied.

"Whether or not it takes off is not our concern, we must board it," 'Vususai replied.

"Well… that okay, go ahead," the unggoy said after thinking for a few long moments.

'Vususai and his men passed by, weapons stowed. They walked at a normal pace, avoiding the attention of the guards. The fact that an unggoy had been left to question passers-by was incredible, and for 'Vususai and the Ascetics, an incredible stroke of luck.

With no alarm raised they boarded the ship and made way to the room they had been in before, meeting no one in the corridors. They had but one more step before they could truly say they escaped. They had to take off.

The eight Ascetics marched to the bridge at the nose of the vessel, passing through the hangar bay unnoticed. The ship had been mostly voided by its passengers and crew, all seeking time on the surface of Final Respite. Those aboard were essential crew only, which meant they were still outnumbered, although it was likely that that was not by as big of a margin as would normally be the case.

The bridge was a wide open space with a large set of view screens projecting images from outside of the bow of the ship.

"Where is the shipmaster?" 'Vususai bellowed into the room, causing the heads of the few sangheili present to raise over their consoles.

"I am he," one sangheili said, his golden armor glittering in the light cast by the view screens.

"We must leave at once. I have information vital to the Ministry of Abnegation that must return to High Charity," 'Vususai said, locking his helmet's eyes to the shipmaster's.

"There is a planet-wide quarantine," the shipmaster replied. "I cannot take off, we would be shot down."

"It is something we must risk," 'Vususai countered, the Ascetic being totally incredulous that the shipmaster was disobeying his order. "Take off."

"I cannot!" the shipmaster replied, taking a more confrontational posture. The Ascetics had advanced across the floor so that 'Vususai no longer had to shout to converse with the shipmaster, but that had also facilitated a fast strike at the shipmaster with 'Vususai's energy sword.

Groaning, the shipmaster fell to the floor. "Make ready to take off, on the authority of the Minister of Abnegation!"

The room went into motion, the seven other Ascetics moving to help the bridge crew ready the ship for launch. The ship was sealed up and the shields raised first, and the engines powered up next. Weapons were left offline- if they were forced into a fight, they were already dead.

The slipspace drive was already spooling up, although a destination had to be calculated still. That was underway.

With a shudder the corvette left the ground, shaking the bonds of Final Respite. A light appeared on the control panel as the video screens showed only sky. They were pressed back into their seats, and loose equipment was shifting rearward.

'Vususai drove his hand into the holographic pad where the light was and a slipspace rupture was torn open, forming a massive shimmering blue-black orb before the corvette, and it raced into it. They immediately left Final Respite behind, streaking away from it toward High Charity.

* * *

Behind them the colony was devastated by the slipspace portal, half the city having been scattered through space as it was absorbed into the portal and the other half destroyed by the ensuing wave of air and debris that washed over it after the portal collapsed and sucked matter into the position where it once occupied, filling the void. Final Respite's capital had been savaged, but the outlying villages were intact, as was the orbital garrison.

On top of them, several other planets were broadcast the assassination of the Prophet, and news spread around the Fringe territories quickly that something untoward was happening in the heart of the Covenant. Fleets were mobilized in an effort to defend themselves from any further aggression by who they viewed as heretics.

A message was beamed from High Charity to the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_, and from there to the Arbiter. His mission was at hand.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Happy belated holidays, readers! I forgot to add an Author's Note saying that on the past chapter, and figured I'd just throw it on this one. _

_Anyways, back to the story. This chapter was something of an experiment. Most are several vignettes melded into one chapter, this one was... one chapter. A solid section of the Divergent Pasts storyline. I was relatively happy with it, and may keep Bilis 'Vususai around, though if you weren't or don't like 'Vususai feel free to say so via PM/Review/Both. I'll respond! I promise! _

_Thanks as always!_

_JLake4_


	8. Malefaction

"The Project is going ahead on schedule, sir," the accented female voice said, though there was no video associated with it. The man listening mused about where the voice's holder came from: Australia, probably. He scoffed and opened up a holographic dossier to remind him while she reported to him. "Our greatest issue is that the muscle tissue is taking a very long time to revitalize. It's very brittle after the burns he suffered. Organs are easy; if we have to we can just fish for good transplants on the black market. I'm sure the batarians would help, they've got a healthy supply of human slaves."

"No replacements," the man said. "I want him to be in one piece. It's got to be the same body, the same mind."

"That's totally impractical," the voice replied. "It'll take months to get the implants and the necessary tools to repair this much damage, if it can be repaired at all—"

"Miss Lawson, all I ask is that you try. If you try and fail, then we can get replacement organs. First, though, we try it the hard way," the Illusive Man said, reclining in his chair and drawing on his cigarette.

"That's a million-plus credit decision," Lawson replied. "We can get the black market organs for a tenth as much, a twentieth, even. Batarians don't value humans that highly."

"Just try," the Illusive Man replied, allowing a hint of anger to break into his voice.

"Okay," Lawson answered after a second, sufficiently cowed for now. The connection was terminated, and the Illusive Man shifted his gaze to another window he had opened on his free-floating holographic screen. This one showed a massive purple ship hovering outside of the Citadel. It was conversing with them, even.

That disturbed him. He'd seen the results of the raw destructive power of these aliens, and while they had just been introduced to the Citadel—the seat of all galactic power—the Citadel races, most importantly humanity, knew _nothing _about them.

Disappearing colonies had been the threat that prompted the recovery of Commander Shepard's body and the initiation of the Lazarus Project, but now the emergence of the Covenant had pushed Cerberus to accelerate the Lazarus Project. Humanity needed its Spectre, because someone with the skill to infiltrate the Covenant needed to collect intelligence, to perform sabotage when necessary, and perhaps even to make an assassination or two. Shepard knew the score, what had to be done for the security of humankind.

The trouble came in how Shepard had become… incapacitated. Not only had he asphyxiated, which would be far easier to repair, but his body had been exposed to a vacuum as it was burning up in Alchera's atmosphere. The burning had almost damaged the body beyond repair, and certainly damaged it beyond recognition. The first months of the Project had been spent separating Shepard from his hard suit. Now they were revitalizing the organs and working to repair the damage done to the brain.

He opened a window with the leaked agreement between the Citadel and Covenant before him. It stunk of the Council's fear, and the agreement heavily favored the Covenant. The three main points were that both sides would cease to fight each other, that an exchange of navigational data would occur within the next five years, and that the Covenant had a standing open invitation to open an embassy on the Citadel. The only point the Citadel stood fast on was a promise from the Covenant for reparations offered to the families of the casualties on Noveria and the corporations whose property was damage. That the Covenant offered a "We'll consider it" to, though the method of their reparations would be interesting to see, since the Covenant wasn't integrated into the Council's monetary system.

The Illusive Man chuckled as he read this, shaking his head from side to side. The Council had once again failed to do anything of use, even with a human sitting on it. He was going to have to accelerate the Lazarus Project. He checked over his accounts to see how much money Cerberus had left, and sent every credit of income not already earmarked for another cell to Lazarus, as well as a note for the project lead, Miss Miranda Lawson.

_Use the replacement organs. There is not enough time._

Cerberus had to act.

* * *

"FLEETSCOM, this is SUV _Maeti_. Unidentified marks are appearing on the far side of Pax, coming toward Noveria, over," the chief communications officer of the _Maeti_, a salarian dreadnought, reported to FLEETSCOM on Sur'Kesh. The information would be passed from FLEETSCOM headquarters to every ship in the Navy tasked to guarding the relay from the Hourglass Nebula to their home star in the Annos Basin that wasn't a part of the Third Fleet, which was currently deployed around Noveria.

Covenant units had held position over the planet for two months now, since the cease-fire took place. Their flagship had departed, but they still had enough firepower to wipe out the turians if they got the inclination.

Until now, the radiation blooms on the scopes denoted the arrival of several dozen Covenant ships, and LADAR had painted them as screaming toward Noveria at speeds the Salarian Union Navy could only dream of achieving in the next twenty years.

"SUV Maeti, observe situation and keep us advised, over," FLEETSCOM came back after a few minutes.

"FLEETSCOM, are there any changes to ROE? Over," Maeti queried as the LADAR officer read the decreasing range to the new ships at a frightfully fast rate.

"Negative, Maeti, fire only if fired upon," FLEETSCOM replied. The ship's captain shook his head. Standing around waiting to get shot was the mantra of the humans, or the turians. Why the salarians had to abandon their doctrine like this was beyond everyone that wasn't at the top level of the Navy.

"Admiral, we've got Covenant ships transmitting a high amount of traffic between each other," the communications station called out from the far end of the ovular bridge. Each station was arrayed around the oval, and the ship's CO had a station in the middle.

"Very well. Keep scanning their weapons. Alert me if they power up," Admiral Kriik said, looking at the most updated LADAR scans on a holo tank behind his station. Salarian code breakers had been frustrated repeatedly as they attempted to crack the Covenant's code. STG had never been stymied like this before, and as an institution they were upset about it.

The amount of communications traffic between the ships was massive, unprecedented in their two months of uneasy coexistence. Something of great import was under discussion between the new arrivals and the old guard. The new ships numbered at 44, all over one kilometer in length. The old guard had been steadily decreasing in number over the weeks and now only numbered 62. The prospect of their fleet doubling in size was daunting for the salarians, who were doomed either way if the Covenant attacked.

Suddenly, a contact disappeared. There was an unusual radiation bloom as well as the appearance of a lot of heat.

"Admiral, something's happened," LADAR reported. "I'm detecting unusual heat signatures on contact CB-21."

The Admiral tapped at his console and brought up CB-21, one of the numerous one-kilometer ships that seemed to form the backbone of the Covenant fleet. He saw only what appeared to be a debris field, as though its propulsion system went wrong and blew the ship in two.

"Enemy ships powering up weapons and shields! CB-18, CB-60, and CB-41 have also dropped off the charts," LADAR interjected, standing. "They're preparing to attack!"

"Bring up the fleet's kinetic barriers and weapons, prepare FTL vectors for each ship's escape if they keep coming after the initial volley, and get a message sent to FLEETSCOM," Admiral Kriik ordered, moving into motion rapidly, even for a salarian.

He slowed, however, and even came to a stop as he looked at the LADAR readouts. With each new scan fewer ships appeared, and the new arrivals mingled with the old guard. This had all the signs of a naval battle.

"Cancel out the last order, comms," Kriik said slowly. "Send a new one instead: 'Enemy ships attacking one another.'"

* * *

"I am the hand of the Prophets," the Arbiter explained. "I retain nothing of my former self while in their service."

"You just do what they say," Hackett extrapolated. "Without question." The aging Admiral rubbed his chin contemplatively. These aliens were like turians without all the spikes.

"Admirable," General Septimus Oraka said, sitting across from the two of them in the kodiak streaking toward the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_. The old turian had rejoined the service after Shepard had paid him a visit and cleaned him up. He tagged along as the most senior turian available, and they'd both been joined by a salarian representative from Special Tasks Group, Colonel Molo Lil, and a representative of the Asari Republics, Lana Teyasi.

The trip to the Citadel had been a great success for the Covenant and for the Citadel, with a formal peace treaty hammered out and signed, and reparations for the attack on Noveria in the works. As a show of good faith, the Covenant had offered a tour of their massive ship, and each of the Council races had selected a military officer to go along with the tour, save for the asari. They'd selected a representative of their intelligence agencies, which were not run by their military.

"Is it as admirable when it is something required of you?" the Arbiter asked the turian.

"Yes, I would say so," Oraka replied quickly. The general was sharp; Hackett had to hand him that much.

"An interesting viewpoint, turian," the Arbiter responded, looking around the shuttle. "Blind obedience is the norm for your species, then?"

Oraka laughed. "No, it's not about blind obedience." The old turian leaned forward. "We value… service to the state over all. You're free to disagree, but you'll find yourself in a bad way very quickly, not even at the hands of the state. Other turians will administer that justice."

"Your species is quite similar to mine," the Arbiter observed. "We have guardians of the faith; they serve to keep other sangheili in line. You can rest assured that sangheili keep our own in line without special guardians assigned to the task."

"I wasn't worried," Oraka said. "Your people run a tight ship from what I've seen."

"You haven't seen any of our ships yet," the Arbiter said, cocking his head to the side inquisitively.

"'Running a tight ship' is a human idiom," Hackett broke in. "It means your people perform their duties well."

"Ah, well in that case, thank you," the Arbiter replied, turning back to Oraka. He looked up at the view screen on the wall behind Colonel Lil. "We have arrived."

The small kodiak shuttle darted toward the twenty-eight kilometer long super carrier as it drifted about several kilometers away from the Citadel.

They were admitted to a cavernous hangar bay, and dazzled by the blues and purples that made up most of the colors within the ship. It all seemed so… alien. The door popped open and the Arbiter led them from the shuttle and into the surreal interior of the ship.

They were met by one of the 'san 'shyuum', or the ruling species of the Covenant. "Welcome aboard the Faith and Glorious Redemption, most esteemed guests," it said, its voice light and flowing, almost entrancing despite the heavy accent to its English. It was easy to see why they were in charge. "I am the Minister of Concert, charged with your care until you leave the ship."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Hackett said, bowing slightly. The other three guests did the same, each in their own species' respective manner.

"You see around you one of the many cargo bays of a CSO-class supercarrier," Concert said, leading them through the cargo bay away from the kodiak. "Above you, suspended from the ceiling, are our Type-31 exoatmospheric fighters, our primary weapon against opposing fighters in space and the best design we've ever had for the role. The Type-31 has been in service for several decades at this point, by your calendar. Two Ages by ours."

The ships the Minister pointed to were shaped like teardrops, though the end where they tapered off, where they were latched to a rig in the ceiling was split so it had two tails to help it maneuver. They were larger than the trident, humanity's main fighter, by far.

Before they left the hangar Hackett noticed two different species of aliens. The sangheili he recognized, but the shorter reptilian ones he did not. "Excuse me, Minister, but what species are those aliens working with the sangheili?"

The Minister turned to face Hackett and looked where he had pointed to. "Ah, those are unggoy, the most numerous of our castes. Unggoy are the newest addition to our Covenant, and they take the brunt of the hard labor required by our efforts."

Hackett thanked the Minister and they proceeded deeper into the ship, now enclosed in a long hallway colored a deep purple color and lit by white strips of light every few meters. Hackett watched as the others peered through the doors they passed.

Small groups of unggoy passed them, lead by a singular sangheili most often. Hackett noted that and watched as a sangheili came bounding toward the Minister and said something in their language. The Minister responded angrily, slamming a fist on his gravity throne.

Slowly the Minister turned to face his guests, saying, "It seems we've encountered an… internal issue. We must return to the system you refer to as Pax. I will escort you back to your shuttle."

"Minister, if you would have us, we would love to stay and see your vessel in operation as it traveled through what do you call it… slipspace," Lana Teyasi offered politely.

"I'm afraid that we can not risk your harm," the Minister of Concert said, ushering them toward the hangar bay.

"Honestly, Minister, we don't mind," Teyasi objected. "Nothing could hurt this ship."

"If you would absolve us of any injury that may occur, you may stay. We can not have a diplomatic incident occur as a result of our… internal affairs," the Minister of Concert said, after thinking.

"We'll send a message to the Council," Teyasi said, looking at the other three, who nodded agreement.

"Very well," the Minister replied, clicking some kind of communications device on his chair and saying something in his language.

Hackett composed a short message to the Alliance embassy informing them of his intention to ride along with the Covenant ship to see it in action. Before he could see the response he saw the Minister turning to face them.

"Come along, I shall lead you to the bridge," he said, leading them back up the hall toward what appeared to be an open plaza with a blue light shining in the back.

As they drew nearer Hackett noticed the light wasn't just shining. It appeared to be drifting visibly toward the ceiling, almost shimmering upward. He watched as the Minister floated into it and shot… up.

"Spirits! What just happened?" Oraka nearly shouted. The turian walked forward to peer up and himself got taken by the lift, going up behind the Minister.

Hackett looked at the salarian and the asari, neither of whom were moving, and decided to take the leap of faith. He stepped into the light and felt himself go weightless and drift upward, faster and faster as he went from no gravity to negative gravity and then back to neutral gravity as he was floated out onto another floor—a whole bank of these gravity elevators lay before them, and several dozen sangheili and unggoy moved about, joined by floating aliens that appeared much like the gas bags indigenous to Eden Prime.

"My apologies, I forgot to inform you of the use of our gravity lifts," the Minister said, moving forward to make sure Hackett was unharmed.

"It's alright," Hackett grumbled, dusting himself off. Teysari and Lil followed, both landing on their feet, unlike Oraka, who appeared to have landed face-first, given his involuntary entry into the lift.

"This way, we must make haste to reach the bridge before our departure," the Minister said, leading them through the crowds toward the correct lift, this one guarded by two sangheili. They were cleared and the Minister stepped onto the lift, shooting upward again.

Behind him, Hackett was the first to step onto it, and felt gravity get cancelled out around him. This time, though, the lift turned ninety degrees and transported them forward. He saw the Minister before him, and behind him the other three guests followed. The scene felt like it should've been accompanied by the sounds of wind blowing around his head or at least some sort of noise, but it wasn't. The air was moving at exactly the same pace with them, so there was no wind.

After several minutes of floating sideways an exit became apparent at the end of the line, and one by one the party stopped and found themselves in a massive command center, easily one hundred meters from back to front.

The center was dominated by a gargantuan holotank, currently displaying what Hackett realized to be Noveria and the ships in orbit above it. The symbols denoting the ships appeared to be engaged in some kind of maneuver, perhaps a drill… then one disappeared. Another followed it, and another after that one.

"One hour ago a fleet of vessels from the fringes of our space decided to rebel over our decision not to destroy your planet Noveria and enter into peaceful negotiations with the Citadel," the Minister explained as they made their way toward the base of the holotank. "They attempted to rectify that which they believed we stumbled on and when they informed the fleet still in orbit of their intentions, they were attacked for disobeying the Prophets' will."

"It is a splinter group, then?" Colonel Lil asked.

"We do not know," the Minister replied uneasily. "Information is in short supply thus far."

"What about the salarian fleet in the Pax system?" Lil spoke up again, a little worry making its way into his voice.

"Fear not, your fleet withdrew after some smaller vessels on its perimeter were destroyed by scouts from the heretic fleet," the Minister answered. Turning to the sangheili shipmaster, he said, "Take us to the fight."

The command center—bridge appeared to be an understatement given the size of the cavernous room—was already engaged in several different operations at once but they bent their efforts toward one goal now: taking the _Faith and Glorious Redemption_ through the mass relay and to the Pax system. It was a relatively new operation for the Covenant's technicians, but they managed, and in seconds they were at the Pax system.

Now it was time for an operation they were well-drilled in: slipspace navigation. Hackett watched with interest as the sangheili worked diligently to plot a course through what Hackett supposed was something akin to an alternate dimension.

"Once we enter slipspace it will be a matter of a few minutes before we arrive at Noveria," the Minister stated, floating around the holotank. "Our course will take us behind the heretic vessels."

"Blocking their retreat," Oraka continued, nodding. "Well played."

"I am afraid it is not that simple," the Minister said. "Space has three dimensions, and our vessels are constructed to take full advantage of all of them. Our purpose is to destroy the heretics by appearing as close as possible and loosing all our considerable arsenal of weapons upon them."

"Right," Oraka said, feeling a little embarrassed by the looks of it.

The mood in the command center was tense as they approached Noveria, suffering from an information shortage as the ships with slipspace communications buoys deployed were engaged in combat and therefore not transmitting as frequently as possible.

Suddenly the domed ceiling and walls were illuminated by the image of Noveria, surrounded by about one hundred ships engaged in close range ship-to-ship combat. The images were so clear that Hackett assumed they were looking through a window until he was informed otherwise.

Outside, the arrival of the supercarrier changed the dynamic of the battle immensely. The heretics took their ships and drove deep into the loyalist fleet, hoping to prevent the behemoth from destroying them without the fear of friendly fire. The loyalists were transmitting on a frequency different to that of the heretics, allowing for a limited ability to discern between friend and foe, but at that close range it was impossible to tell.

Unfortunately for them, the supercarrier deployed hundreds of their Type-31 XAVs out of a dozen hangar bays on either side of the ship. They expanding cloud of fighters engaged and overwhelmed those of the heretics in minutes, leaving the loyalists with control of the space between the ships—making boarding easier.

Multiple cruisers would line up and hit each other with broadside blasts from their plasma batteries, burning into each others' hulls and damaging both ships severely.

_Faith and Glorious Redemption_ used its main central energy projector indiscriminately, gutting the smaller CCS-class battlecruisers across the gulf of space with ease. The weapon was capable of bombarding planets and rendering vast areas of them sterile glass ruins in a single shot, and that destructive power, when focused on a single vessel, destroyed it outright. It was a fast and irreversible judgment passed down on the heretics, and it broke their fleet.

It was like a silver lance, reaching out through space and smiting the opposing fleet in a very short intense shot. The power was absolutely terrifying to behold.

The remaining heretics, now numbering fewer than twenty, attempted to retreat, but found themselves trapped by their own desperate maneuver to escape the supercarrier. Several ships were reclaimed through boarding action, and the rest destroyed ship to ship. No vessel was allowed to escape.

After less than two hours, the Second Battle of Noveria had ended, but reports beamed to _Faith and Glorious_ _Redemption_ indicated many such skirmishes were occurring across Covenant space.

The Minister of Concert turned to his astonished guests, all attempting to put to words what power they had just witnessed.

"It should seem that the Covenant is in danger," he said after a moment. "We shall clear the debris from orbit here, but the Fleet must depart for home."

"Minister, the Citadel may be able to offer aide," Teyasi stated. "I can speak to my Councilor."

"We can all speak to our Councilors," Hackett agreed, detecting a valuable opportunity to gather invaluable intelligence on Covenant weapons and doctrine. He assumed that the representatives from STG and asari intelligence were thinking on the same page, but three out of four Councilors was more than enough to get a Council force out to Covenant space.

"Any help you would offer would be welcomed with open arms," the Minister said, spreading his arms symbolically. "I'm afraid the tour will have to be cut short, though. We shall assign an escort of 31s to transport you safely to the remaining elements of the salarian fleet."

Twenty minutes later the four representatives were transported to the hangar, where their kodiak shuttle awaited, looking angular and out of place in the ship built of flowing curves and limited straight lines.

They boarded the shuttle and took off into space, escorted by six Type 31 XAVs.

"I thought the fleet had departed," Colonel Lil said.

"They came back," Teyasi replied. "It's probable they left a stealth reconnaissance element behind to give them updates of the combat."

"Indeed," the salarian said after a moment, not at all taken aback that the asari knew standard STG operating procedures offhand. The two races had coexisted long enough that they knew what each other knew, and what the other did not know. Their intelligence services were close partners.

As the shuttle arrived in the hangar of a salarian cruiser, the intelligence specialists, Admiral, and General knew that they had their work cut out for them and plotted a course back to the Citadel to see about the raising of a Citadel Expeditionary Force to assist their newfound Covenant friends.

* * *

_A/N~_

_The battle for the soul of the Covenant is on! This is exciting to write, battles seem to go by so quickly. Essentially the Great Schism came 300 years early, and this time the Citadel is going to be in on it. The next chapter might be a long one, or long to write, at least. _

_Also, to address a frequent question posted in the reviews, I have worked out a story mechanic to bring in jiralhanae, brutes, what have you. Don't expect them soon, but they will be making an appearance. _

_Something I'm toying with is splitting this story into two parts, also. Depending on how long the Schism lasts I might do a two-part story, with the second part taking place after the arrival of the Reapers (i.e. the Reaper War would be a separate story in this universe). _

_On a more personal note, school begins again next week. It may take longer to get chapters out between homework and class and my job, but I'll try to keep 'em coming. _

_It's been two months to the day since Divergent Pasts was published and it's garnered 20,000 views and nearly 100 reviews. Thanks for reading, reviewing, and making this story such a success!_

_JLake4_

_PS: Do you readers think this story needs a codex or some sort of information supplement?_


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